We Might Fall
by Cassy27
Summary: A serial killer is terrorizing the city and detective Thor Odinson is on the case. As if his life isn't complicated enough, his little brother suddenly shows up on his doorstep. AU, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: I want to thank **_**Greenloki**_** for all the help she has given me with this story. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to write this chapter. This will be a short story (maybe 5 or 6 chapters), but each chapter will have a pretty decent length. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 1**

**_June 14__th__, Friday._**

There weren't many days where police commissioner Nick Fury smiled. In fact, most of the time, he seemed to have a scowl permanently plastered to his face. The fact that he wore an eye-patch didn't help his image either, but today, Thor actually understood why Fury looked as grim as he did. There was a serial killer working his way through the city – _his_ city, as Fury liked to call it – and their investigation wasn't really going anywhere and the people were growing restless.

The police department was working their asses off, doing overtime each day, but still they weren't getting any closer to actually catching the bastard, and Thor – along with all of his colleagues – was starting to feel greatly irritated and angry. Eight victims had fallen so far, but there could be more because as Assistant Superintendent Maria Hill was currently explaining, the killer's MO was always changing.

The first victim – at least, they _assumed_ he was the first – had been a young man, shot twice in the chest as he had been walking home one evening, now fourteen months ago. The second victim had been shot about fifty days later, this time in the head. The third and fourth had been drowned, the fifth had been beaten to death. The sixth and seventh had been strangled with a rope and that brought them to the eighth and final victim, though everyone knew more people would die because of this sick psycho. The eighth victim was a young woman, just having turned twenty-three last month. She had been last scene at a local club by her friends until she had been found the next morning, twelve stab wounds to her chest.

None of it made sense. The victims' ages ranged from nineteen to forty-one and the methods of killings were all over the place. Thor had often wondered how anyone could be certain that these victims belonged to the same killer, but there was now enough evidence to support that claim. The way the bodies were disposed linked them, all of them having been left near the riverbank. The murders always seemed to happen at the same time in the day, too, always after midnight, but before three in the morning.

But even though every cop and detective in the city was working on catching this serial killer, they were nowhere near actually finding him. It only showed that the bastard was smart enough to cover his or hers tracks, though statistics showed that chances were the killer was male. Still, they weren't ruling anything out just yet.

"When do you think he'll snap?" A voice suddenly asked quietly.

Thor turned to look at his right to find Steve Rogers sitting next to him. He had definitely not been present when this meeting with Fury and Hill had started and Thor wondered how on earth Steve had managed to sneak in without anyone noticing. Then again, Steve had been in the army years ago, a special ops team, and sneaking around was one of his many skills.

"When who will snap?" Thor asked, hoping he and Steve wouldn't draw anyone's attention. They really should be listening to what Maria Hill was rattling on about. They _were_ trying to catch a serial killer after all.

Steve nudged towards their Chief. "Fury, of course," he clarified. His blue eyes revealed a hint of concern, but that didn't surprise Thor. Steve Rogers and Nick Fury went way back. They knew each other from the army and everyone knew Steve had been Fury's golden soldier. He still was. "He's been chasing this killer for fourteen months already. I dare say he barely sleeps anymore."

"He won't have a breakdown," Thor replied determinedly, "I'm pretty sure the man would go unfazed should a third world war start." It earned him a soft chuckle from Steve. "Seriously, if anyone will catch the bastard, it's Fury."

"I know, I know," Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Their attention returned to Maria Hill when they heard something about a psychologist and psychological profile. Only when the man stood – having been sitting quietly in the back of the conference room – and walked forward did the gazes of every police officer fall upon him. Had he been present the entire time? Thor honestly didn't know. Apparently, that man had a talent for being invisible because the other officers looked surprised as well.

"Hello, I am Dr. Bruce Banner," the man introduced himself. His kind brown eyes fell on every face before him. He even offered them a faint, but amiable smile. Thor could tell the psychologist was a charismatic man, his entire composure radiating something calm and serene. "I was asked by the police commissioner to compose a profile of the serial killer currently active in the city. I have been given access to all the files and I've visited the locations where the bodies have been dumped. Unfortunately, there isn't much I can work with. The seemingly random victims and methods of killing are all so dissimilar that I'm led to believe that this is not, in fact, a sexual predator." Banner cleared his throat, a hint of unease suddenly visible in his eyes. Was he nervous speaking before this group? Thor could hardly believe it.

Dr. Banner continued, "The absence of sexual assault on any of the victims only confirms my suspicion. The way all the victims were killed also leads me to believe that our killer is still experimenting. He is looking for that one perfect kill that will finally satisfy him."

A hand rose.

Thor raised one eyebrow when he saw it was Steve.

"Uh-" Clearly, Banner had not expected any questions or feedback. "Yes?"

"Dr. Banner, I am detective Steve Rogers," Steve introduced himself. Every pair of eyes – and Fury's brown one – focused on him. "I was just wondering how you could be certain that this is not a sexual sadist when you claim that he is still experimenting. Couldn't it be that he will turn to sexual relief once he finds that perfect killing manner?"

"Yes," Banner answered without missing a beat. He looked to have newfound confidence and Steve's question seemed to put him at some sort of ease. Or perhaps he simply enjoyed answering questions. Thor wouldn't be surprised if Dr. Bruce Banner taught at the local university. "Yes, that could very well be the case. Some serial killers evolve over time, change their methods, and perfect them. We have reached assent that the time between each kill is getting shorter and shorter. The time between the seventh and last victim is only twenty three days."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. "So we can expect another victim within the next month."

"Unfortunately, yes," Banner answered. His gaze slid through the room. "My preliminary profile puts our killer between thirty and forty years old. Until recently, he had a steady, well paid job. Two victims were strangled to death, one being a twenty eight year old man. One needs power and strength to subdue a healthy, strong adult man so we are definitely talking about a male killer."

At this point, every officer and detective had started to take notes, Thor included. He listened intently and penned down every small detail. When the meeting finally ended, officers and detectives alike exchanged notes while Hill, Fury and Banner conversed privately.

"So, detective Odinson," Steve said playfully. He still found it amusing to call Thor that since he'd only become a detective six months ago. "Can I expect you for a beer at the pub this evening? Peggy and I are buying the drinks!"

Thor shook his head. It was indeed Friday evening which meant everyone from the department gathered at the local pub for a few drinks. Steve had promised them a free barrel of beer since he and Peggy had been together for five years now, but Thor had different plans for tonight. "I'm afraid not," he replied, "Jane is leaving for Connecticut tonight."

"Oh, yes," Steve said enthusiastically, a grand smile curving his lips upwards. Even though he was an adult man of thirty two years old, he still held a boyish charm. Thor doubted that would ever disappear. "Is she excited about the guest lectures?"

"Very," Thor answered, feeling proud that his girlfriend had been asked to teach a few classes at Yale University. Jane hadn't been able to shut up about it these last few weeks. Thinking about it, thinking about _her_, made Thor feel content and amused. "She has been looking forward to this for months."

"Well, I understand why you can't come to the pub then," Steve said, playfully patting Thor's shoulder as they walked out of the conference room, "I'm sure you have big plans." He winked suggestively.

"Dear God, Rogers," Thor said, feigning shock, "could you not meddle in my private life?"

Steve laughed, a deep, vibrating sound coming from deep within his chest. "Say hi to Jane for me," he said after a few moments, "and wish her all the luck in the world, though I doubt she will need it because she is a brilliant woman." He grabbed his coat, preparing to leave the office after a long, difficult day. "I'll see you on Monday then."

~ 0 ~

Angry.

Angry and bored.

It was enough to make a man lose his mind.

It wasn't enough to make one kill, though.

In his case, however, he hadn't been able to stop himself. His first kill had sent him into some kind of overdrive, a wild ecstasy that had coursed through his veins, sharpening his senses, and making him feel alive once more. It had been so very long since he had felt that energetic and…_powerful_. God, he yearned for power, for control!

But taking a person's life was something terrifying, too.

It was something haunting, ominous, and destructive.

He'd worried about his soul for weeks afterwards, but in the end, those dark desires had overpowered him a second time. After such a long time of feeling worthless, neglected and belittled, he had felt the same darkness claim him, this time clouding his mind, devouring his reason and compassion. No longer did he care about his soul. He doubted such a thing even existed.

He had found a second victim.

And a third.

A fourth.

He never lost count, he never forgot their faces. Thinking about them made his heart race within his chest. It caused adrenaline to pump through his veins. Thinking about them made him feel…dominant and in control. His victims were proof that he was not incompetent, that he was not incapable of performing his job. He would show everyone who had wronged him that they should never have betrayed him. He would show everyone that he was not…_ill_.

How dare anyone even suggest such a thing!

He would prove himself. And he would enjoy himself.

He was bored and angry.

_He needed a new victim._

**_June 16__th__, Sunday._**

It was only Sunday, about three in the afternoon, and Thor already missed Jane while she hadn't even been gone for two full days. He was starting to think that he had grown way too dependent on her or that perhaps he was just acting childish. Of course he could live without his girlfriend for eight weeks! Besides, it wasn't as if she was at the other end of the world. She was just in Connecticut and if Thor _really_ wanted to see her, he just had to hop on a plane for about two hours.

He already planned on surprising her with a visit in about three weeks, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to miss her now. The house was simply too quiet and his bed too empty. He missed waking up next to her, having breakfast with her, sneaking into her shower when she least expected it, earning him a good smack on the head. Yes, he missed everything about her.

But Thor had enough ways to occupy himself. Actually, now that Jane was gone, he could finally watch all the movies she was adamant about _not _seeing. He had started with the latest Quentin Tarantino movie and then caught up on some episodes of Game of Thrones. Honestly, he could not understand why Jane disliked that show so much. Then again, she was all about romantic comedies. The mere idea of having to watch one of those sent shivers down Thor's spine.

Just as he was about to start the final episode of the third season, two short, sharp knocks on his front door echoed through his living room. Thor groaned quietly. He was already imagining the old lady from next door greeting him and even though she always brought pie or cake, Thor simply did not want to spend his entire afternoon with her. She only talked about her grandchildren or her garden. She was a very lovely old lady, but very boring, too.

The person standing before his door, however, was definitely _not _the old Mrs. Jenkins.

"Loki."

He was the last person to expect on his doorstep.

"Hello, Thor," Loki greeted him, his usual mischievous grin plastered to his face. Yet Loki looked different somehow. He looked…older. And tired. His shoulder-length raven hair was slightly disheveled while his usually bright green eyes had lost some of their brilliance. His fair skin looked even paler and he had definitely lost weight.

"Come in," Thor said, stopping himself from observing every detail of his little brother. It had been a few months since he had seen or heard from him, but now that he stood before him, Thor could already guess what had happened. He led Loki down the hallway and into the –thankfully cleaned -kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink? Eat? Some sunlight perhaps?"

Loki snorted, his grin growing. "You sound like Mom," he replied.

"So she _has_ seen you," Thor stated. Even though Loki hadn't actually replied to his offerings, he grabbed a coke from his fridge anyway, unscrewed the cap and handed him the cold bottle. Loki accepted it gratefully. "And she didn't have a heart attack?"

"Almost," Loki said, his smile never faltering. Thor knew his little brother well enough, however, to know when he meant a smile or not. There was just an undeniable sadness to him at the moment, the emotion so intense that not even Loki – master of hiding his feelings – could hide from his emerald green eyes. "I didn't stay very long, though. I only saw Dad for a few minutes."

Thor bit down on his lower lip, forbidding himself from firing all of his questions at him. Firstly, it would be impolite since Loki was his guest at the moment and he had only been here for two minutes and secondly, if Thor pushed too hard, Loki would simply withdraw into himself.

Today, however, was full of surprises.

"You can ask, Thor," Loki sighed. He put down the now half-empty bottle of coke and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed before his chest. His gaze bore into Thor's, almost daring him to be brusque and blunt. "I know you want to ask about it. I'm actually surprised Mom hasn't called you yet to tell you about it, to _gloat_ about it."

"She would never gloat, Loki," Thor heard himself say.

He huffed angrily, his eyes momentarily darkening.

"But it is true then," Thor sighed regretfully, "what I am thinking?"

"Yes, it's true," Loki said, looking wounded and sorrowful, "Sigyn and I officially split up. We filed for divorce two weeks ago and I hope all that mess is sorted very quickly." He rubbed a hand across his face, again showing Thor how exhausted he felt.

Thor had known that his brother's marriage was falling apart for a while now, but he hadn't actually expected them to divorce. They had been together since they were seventeen years old, their relationship having lasted for over fourteen years since Loki had turned thirty one last February. They graduated together and went to College together. They travelled the world together and eventually got married seven years ago while Frigga and Odin never approved of the relationship. Sigyn was a bit of a wild card after all – it was definitely her idea to travel all across Africa for one year - and their parents had always believed Loki didn't belong with her, that he could do better. Of course, Loki had always tactically ignored the disapproval, but now it had all crumbled down.

Thor could barely believe it.

He figured Loki and Sigyn were one of those couples that had always been together and that would always _remain_ together. Whenever he thought about romance and perfect relationships, he thought about his brother, taking an example in him.

"But what…" Thor wasn't sure if he should pose his next question. Loki might be his baby brother, but his love life was still none of his business. He decided to risk it. "What happened?"

Loki's gaze fell to the floor, his shoulders tensing. "Everything I suppose," he answered cheerlessly, "we grew apart, we got bored of each other, were getting under each other's skin. I don't know how else I can describe it. We tried, but in the end, you only grow to despise a person that annoys you."

Thor had a hard time listening to Loki's words. "She annoyed you?"

"All the little things that used to be so adorable," Loki sighed, "I hate those now. And then of course…" He finally gazed up again, tears on the verge of breaking free. Thor hated to see his brother like this. "Well, we are both adults and we have…needs. I would never have acted on them, not before we had given up all hope, but she met another man named Theoric and she… I suppose I don't need to paint a picture to explain to you what they did in his bed."

"Oh, Loki," Thor let out a heavy, burdened breath, "I am so sorry." He meant those words. He meant them with all his heart. He knew Loki loved Sigyn with all his heart – at least, he had loved her – and he knew Loki was hurting now. He just wished he could say something that would take away some of his pain and troubles.

"Anyway," Loki continued, taking in a deep, sharp breath to steady himself. He blinked his tears away, that sad, little smile returning to his lips. "I've moved out of our house and everything I own is in my car, but I cannot live with Mom and Dad, even if it's only temporary. I just can't deal with their 'I told you so'-faces every morning."

Thor nodded, knowing what Loki was asking without actually having to voice the question. "Of course you can stay here for as long as you want, brother," he said, "you can have the guest-room."

"Won't Jane mind?" Loki asked.

"No," Thor replied without having to think about the question. Of course Jane wouldn't mind. She liked Loki and since she was actually one of the sweetest, kindest women on this earth, she would be damned before she would let a friend down. "You should feel lucky that she isn't home for the next eight weeks. She would smother you more than Mom would."

That earned Thor a well-meant chuckle.

"Come on," Thor said, walking across the kitchen and towards the hallway, "I'll help you unload your car."

"Thanks, Thor," Loki said before Thor could exit the kitchen. There lay nothing but sincerity in his voice. "For helping me out."

"Hey," Thor smiled broadly, knowing that his blue eyes lightened up brilliantly, "you are my little brother. I wouldn't dare to abandon you. Now come on, let's get to work because I actually want to watch the final episode of Game sometime today."

"Gosh, Thor, you haven't seen it yet?" Loki laughed and Thor decided he liked that sound. Perhaps it was best that Loki occupied his thoughts with something else but his divorce. "Where have you been hiding the last few weeks? In a cave?"

"Don't insult me," Thor replied playfully as they walked down the hallway. He blithely punched Loki's shoulder. "I know for a fact that you haven't seen the entire last season of Fringe yet. Would you like me to spoil it for you?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

They continued to bicker and banter as they emptied Loki's car. They smiled and laughed and remembered that they always had fun when they were together. They hadn't seen much of each other the last few years, definitely not when Thor had moved to the city and Loki had bought a house at the other side of the state. But now Thor vowed to be the brother that Loki needed right now, he vowed to support him.

He would help him through this difficult time.

**_June 17__th__, Monday._**

A bad idea is what it had been.

A _very_ bad idea.

Thor didn't know what he and Loki had been thinking when they'd decided to get a drink on a Sunday evening. They had started the evening calmly, not really expected to stay in the pub for very long, but the more they talked and laughed – and Thor had really wanted to keep Loki laughing - the quicker time had gone by and suddenly, it had been a little after midnight! That was when Thor had realized that he couldn't count the number of beers he'd had on both his hands. Another thirty minutes later and he had added another three pints to his list of beverages. There used to be a time he could drink his little brother under the table – a fact he took pride in - but that wasn't the case anymore.

Either Thor could no longer tolerate much alcohol or Loki could do just that. It was actually a very unsettling thought. Loki had always been the responsible brother of the two; never drinking, never smoking, never experimenting with anything, but it seemed that that had changed, too. Thor was certain Loki had drunk at least fifteen beers last night and even though he had definitely been tipsy, he had _not_ been drunk which was only possible if one was used to drinking a lot. Had Sigyn done that to him, too? Had they driven each other so mad near the end of their relationship that Loki had sought solace in alcohol? Thor couldn't believe it.

He _refused _to believe it.

But now it was Monday morning and Thor was mindlessly staring at the stack of papers on the desk in front of him. He really needed to get to work. He needed to sort through anonymous tips concerning the serial killer, make a few phone calls, and study the geological profile of the possible kill-sites some other detectives had drafted. Yes, he had a lot of work to do, but all he could think about was the raging headache currently numbing his mind.

"You look like hell."

Thor was pulled from his thoughts by the familiar voice and when he gazed up, he found Steve Rogers standing before his desk. As always, the guy looked immaculate. His short blond hair was neatly combed back, he had a faint blush to his cheeks, and his clothes barely had a wrinkle in them. Even though he had left the army years ago, he still _looked_ like the perfect soldier.

"I _feel_ like hell," Thor commented, not bothering to properly greet his colleague. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his rumbling stomach that had received too much alcohol last night and not enough food. "Do you have any aspirin in your desk by any chance?"

Steve snorted, but he walked back to his desk a few meters away. He rummaged through the top drawer and eventually returned with a small, orange bottle full of little, white pills. Thor gratefully accepted it and took two pills, swallowing them down without any water, though he should really try and hydrate himself.

"Thanks." He tossed the small bottle back at Steve who caught it effortlessly. "Remind me to never go drinking on a Sunday evening again."

"Actually, I feel rather betrayed," Steve said, crossing his arms before his chest, staring down at the pale looking detective. His words would pack more punch if he'd said them without grinning slightly or without a hint of mirth in his blue eyes. "I understand that you couldn't go out with us on Friday because of the whole Jane-thing, but now I bust you on going out last night. What are you hiding, Thor?"

Thor dropped his head onto the surface of his desk. It was still early and not every cop, detective or other employee had arrived yet so he could still behave somewhat…unprofessionally. That being said, should Fury or Hill catch him like this, they might suspend him for a few days or worse. But his headache was simply unbearable and all Thor could do at the moment was wait for the aspirin to do its work.

"My brother arrived on my doorstep yesterday," Thor explained, his head still on his desk. For a second he wondered if Steve could hear him, but since he made a small noise of acknowledgment, Thor knew he heard him just fine despite his mumbling. "He just came out of nowhere and I had to get him out of the house for the evening. The guy needed to let off some steam because he's going through a divorce, Steve, so what else was I supposed to do?"

"Don't tell me you got him drunk, too," Steve said, and this time his voice betrayed disapproval and a hint of concern, "please don't tell me you did something stupid that you are now regretting because I have seen you drunk, Thor."

"No, none of that," Thor replied. He lifted his head, feeling slightly better now that the aspirin was starting to kick in. "And Loki wasn't even that drunk." A sigh escaped his lips. "I just cannot pinpoint the exact moment where he became a better drinker than me."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "You sound wounded."

"I am," Thor replied loudly, "it was the one thing I was better at and now I've lost that, too."

Steve couldn't keep himself from laughing. "You're an idiot," he said. He walked back to his desk, looking over his shoulder and adding, "You better get your butt working. Fury and Hill are here."

Thor sighed and slowly got to work, starting with digging through the transcripts of the anonymous phone calls from the tip-line. He didn't really expect to find anything useful, but one could never know. Not ten minutes later, he had forgotten all about his headache, about last night, and about the troubles his brother was going through.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: Greenloki, thank you so much for all your help! I also want to thank everyone that has read the first chapter and decided to come back to read the second chapter. Thank you for your feedback and I hope to hear your opinion again!**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 2**

_**June 20**__**th**__**, Thursday.**_

It was a lovely surprise coming home at seven in the evening to find a cooked meal waiting for him. Truthfully, Thor didn't know Loki _could_ cook, but he supposed there were a lot of things he didn't know about his brother. They hadn't been that close the last few months after all, and Loki had never been a sharer to begin with. He has always been a very private person, even when he had just been a boy. However, since Loki's sudden arrival a few days ago, Thor felt he already knew Loki better than ever before.

So Loki turned out to be a great cook, but Thor figured that shouldn't surprise him. His brother had always been a perfectionist after all which meant that the steak was grilled just right, the potatoes were baked to perfection and the sauce had just the right amount of salt and pepper. Thor hated to admit it, but this was a better meal than Jane had ever cooked for him.

He even got dessert: chocolate mousse.

And they talked, about everything and nothing. It made Thor realize that he actually missed his brother. He didn't know why he'd never called him when he'd still been with Sigyn or why he never invited them over to have dinner together. It could have been fun. It _would_ have been fun. Sigyn and Jane might even have liked each other, but it was too late now. Thor doubted he would ever see Loki's soon to be ex-wife again.

"Have you heard from Jane today?" Loki asked as he washed the dishes. There were only a few plates, glasses and bowls so the task was expected to be done in about ten minutes. They might watch a movie together then.

Thor grabbed a linen towel and helped Loki with the chore. "Yeah, she called around four o'clock this afternoon," he replied with a smile on his lips. Thinking of Jane always made him feel happy. "She is having a blast at the university and I'm starting to wonder if she'll even come back at the end of the eight weeks."

"Of course she will come back" Loki chuckled, then paused, a hint of mischief in his eyes. At least that had not changed. "Or perhaps not. Maybe she will get a permanent job over there and you will have to move to Connecticut." When he spotted the – albeit feigned - shocked expression on his older brother's face, he burst into laughter.

"I am not moving to that God-awful place," Thor said, an actual shiver running down his back, though he knew perfectly well Loki was only joking. "I like it here. I grew up in this city, and so did Jane. I doubt she would want to live so far away from her parents anyway."

"That's what I said all those years ago," Loki stated, his amusement and playfulness suddenly ebbing away now that his thoughts had turned towards Sigyn. He shrugged, shaking away all thoughts of her. Thor simply couldn't understand how Loki's feelings towards that woman had changed so much. There used to be a time where he would have died for her, but Thor supposed that everything could be broken in the end. "You and Jane seem really happy, though," Loki continued, his voice light and carefree again – as far as that was possible, "may I ask why you haven't proposed yet?"

Thor was genuinely surprised by that question and he could not bring himself to answer.

"Come on, Thor," Loki grinned. "Everyone knows you were always the more romantic one of us. You went on dates and brought flowers for the girls. You paid for their dinner and you behaved like a true gentleman. Everyone assumed you would be the one to tie the knot first, but now look where we are."

Thor smiled at those memories. He did go on a lot of dates when he'd been a few years younger and he had always tried to be Prince Charming. He often succeeded, too, but none of those relationships had gone anywhere until he'd finally met Jane Foster. He had actually asked her mother what her favorite flowers were so he could appear with them in hand on their second date. "I'm still romantic," he said after a short silence, finding Loki's intense green gaze on him. "And I might ask her to marry me one day, but…" No, he could not finish that sentence. Perhaps he owed Loki the truth, but he just…couldn't do that to him. Not now.

"But what?" Loki prodded, his emerald eyes filled with curiosity.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Thor," he said. "Don't be shy."

"I don't know why I haven't asked her yet," Thor replied, hoping that the explanation would be enough. However, who was he kidding? This was Loki after all. "Perhaps I just don't feel like we're there yet."

"_Not there yet_?" Loki repeated skeptically. Of course he could see straight through Thor's lie. He had always been able to do that, even when they had only been boys. "You've been together for how long? Five years? Six? And that's not counting those months where you just dated her. How much _longer_ do you need to be together before you know if she's the one, before you know whether or not you want to marry her?"

Thor picked up the glasses he had just dried and put them away in the cupboard.

"Come on, Thor," Loki continued, his eyes having narrowed suspiciously. "What are you hiding from me?"

Thor grew exasperated. "Nothing!"

"Tell me," Loki pushed on. "You were always the one who said you wanted to get married before you were thirty and you are thirty-four now. Why haven't you proposed yet?"

"Because I don't want to end up like you."

_Crap_.

He said it. It had slipped from his tongue so easily and now the damage had been done. He watched Loki's eyes grow wide with shock, he watched his face pale slightly and his shoulders grow tense. He had hurt his little brother and Thor wanted to smack himself on the head for it. How could he do this to Loki?

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he sighed, knowing he had to apologize. "I don't know why-"

"No," Loki interrupted him. He returned his gaze to the dishes, strands of raven hair falling before his features, effectively hiding the hurt expression in his eyes. "No, you are right. Of course you don't want to end up like me."

"Brother-"

"I mean, look at me," he sighed heavily, and even though his face was half concealed, Thor could see his green eyes glazing over. "I'm thirty one years old, I'm getting divorced from my first and only girlfriend, I quit my job because I couldn't stay in that small town any longer, and I am living with my brother." He swallowed heavily. "I'm living on your charity."

"That isn't true," Thor argued. He had not known Loki had such a negative outlook, but that should not come as a surprise either. Thor didn't know why he hadn't expected it. Of course Loki didn't have very positive thoughts right now! All his laughing and joking was just a façade. "You're going through a difficult time in your life, yes, but don't think for one second that you are living here because I am being charitable. You live here because you are my brother and I love you. I want to help you."

A humorless snort came from Loki's nose. "I shouldn't _need_ help."

Thor dropped his linen towel on the counter and took a step closer towards Loki. He placed a hand on his thin shoulder and forced him to look at him. Loki refused at first, keeping his gaze down, but when Thor remained silent, Loki finally raised his green eyes. Thor hated himself. He had actually managed to make his little brother cry.

"There's no shame in needing help, Loki," Thor told him, his voice holding only sincerity.

"That's very easy to say when you have never needed help in your life," Loki countered angrily.

Thor nodded thoughtfully. "You are right," he said. "But I believe in what I am preaching. There might come a time where I will need help, but I will know I can always come knocking on your door." He watched Loki grow silent, serene – timid almost. "I know you loved Sigyn with all your heart for years, I don't even know if you've actually stopped loving her, and doesn't that make this entire situation, this divorce, harder?"

Loki nodded, blinking away his tears. "I have loved her for so long," he sighed. "But I don't love her anymore. All the shouting, the blaming, the heated arguments, they were awful, Thor, and we just couldn't go on like that anymore. It hurts that I don't love her anymore. It actually _hurts_. How messed up am I, huh?"

Thor tightened his grip on Loki's shoulder. "Did you know that you are the reason why I believed in true love for so long?" He asked, steadily holding his little brother's troubled gaze. "Mother only ever saw Sigyn as the girl that stole you away from her at such a young age, but I saw her as some kind of princess. She had to be for you to love her so fiercely. Everyone thought your relationship would end in just a few months because you were just seventeen years old, but it didn't end that quickly. It lasted years and every time I saw you two together, it gave me hope."

Loki bit down on his lower lip. "Doesn't that mean then that I crushed your beliefs of true love?"

"Not really," Thor replied, shaking his head. "It means we have both grown up and we have both gotten more realistic about what it means to love someone and to have a relationship. It's hard work, sometimes _very_ hard work, but it's worth it, isn't it?" He watched Loki grew confused. "Would you take it back? Would you undo all of your years together with Sigyn, now knowing how it ends?"

That question gave Loki food for thought. He stayed silent for a few minutes, but finally, the smallest, yet saddest smile curved his lips upwards. "No," he answered. "Because we were good together for fourteen years. We had fun and we loved each other."

Thor pulled Loki closer, embracing him. "That makes it that much harder, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Loki sighed, allowing his brother to hug him. "It's hard to let go of such a massive chapter in my life." He let go of Thor, his tears not having disappeared entirely. "Thanks, Thor, for everything."

"You're very welcome."

_**June 25th, Tuesday.**_

Today was a difficult day because everything sort of seemed to crash down. The day had started badly – not exactly for him, but Thor had decided that Loki's fate was now his fate – and it seemed it would end badly as well. He had woken around 6.30 that morning, not due to his alarm blaring him awake or because his phone rang unexpectedly, but because he'd heard the upset voice of his brother. The walls of his house were thick, but they hadn't been thick enough to dull the sound of Loki's breaking voice.

He'd gotten out of bed after five minutes of listening to Loki talk, but being unable to hear what exactly he was saying. At first he'd wanted to ignore everything by turning around in his bed and pulling his blanket over his head. He'd wanted to grant him some form of privacy, but eventually, Thor's curiosity had won, as had his concern. He'd quickly gotten dressed and tripled downstairs to find Loki pacing the floor of the kitchen, a phone plastered to his left ear.

"Well, whatever, Sigyn," Loki had said harshly, but it hadn't been harshly enough to hide the heartache, "you can do whatever the hell you want." At this point, he hadn't noticed Thor was standing in the kitchen, too. There was a short pause. "I'm not being immature-" He had been shouting now. "-I'm just saying that I don't care anymore. I've cared enough, I think, I've cared too much!"

At this point, Thor had started to think that he really shouldn't be there, listening to Loki have this obviously painful conversation with his soon to be ex-wife. He had just been about to turn around and quietly sneak away when Loki turned into his direction, emerald green eyes shining brightly with unshed tears.

He'd mouthed '_I'm sorry_' at him, but Loki merely shook his head and continued his pacing.

"Yeah, good luck and whatnot," Loki had spat into the phone. It went without saying that those good wishes were insincere. "Don't call me again," he'd said and then he slammed his phone shut.

For a moment, Thor had felt completely awkward and intruding, and he'd been a second away from apologizing when Loki had suddenly spun around and thrown the phone against the nearest wall. Thor hadn't been able to breathe for a moment. He'd just been able to stare. He had felt as if the man standing in his kitchen hadn't been his little brother anymore. The Loki he knew didn't smash phones, didn't let out a strange, strangled cry. But this new man standing before him did.

A minute had passed where Thor stayed completely still and Loki had pulled himself together.

"Sorry," he'd muttered as he'd stared at the floor. "Just…sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," Thor had replied. If anything, it had been he who should have apologized. "I know it's a silly question, but are you okay?"

Loki had sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily. When he'd opened them again – two wide green eyes staring right into his blue ones – he'd been crying. It was another thing Loki normally didn't do. Thor couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen him cry.

"We'd agreed to sell the house," Loki had explained as he'd angrily wiped away his tears. "But she doesn't want that anymore. She wants to live there with _him_. With Theoric."

"The guy she cheated on you with?"

Loki had nodded his head. "Yeah," he'd replied, finally having calmed a bit. "Isn't that the biggest insult? Our marriage fell apart and now she just wants to start anew with the same guy that was the straw that broke the camel!"

Thor honestly hadn't been able to reply to that.

"I fucking hate it," Loki had whispered. "I hate everything about this situation."

Again, Thor hadn't had the faintest clue what to say.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," Loki had said after another short silence.

_Finally_ he had known what to say. Finally, he had no longer felt like a complete, awkward idiot. "No, it's okay. I have to get to work anyway so…it's okay." So perhaps he had still been an idiot who couldn't find the right words to comfort his brother.

"Yeah," Loki had said. "I have to get ready, too." When his gaze had met Thor's this time, he'd regained a bit of his confidence. "Do I look like a complete mess? I have a job interview at Stark Industries. I'm supposed to meet the big man himself, but… I look like a mess, don't I?"

"No, no, not all," Thor had fumbled and he'd scolded himself for behaving like this. "Just take a shower, eat something and you'll be just fine."

Loki had answered with a smile – a faint, watery one – but a smile none the less.

So that was how his bad day had started and it hadn't gotten any better afterwards. He had actually just been in the shower himself when his phone hadstarted ringing. He'd been greeted by Steve's voice who'd told him that there had been another victim which meant there were nine bodies now. This time, it had been a man and apparently, his death had been quite gruesome.

Phil Coulson had been tortured and eventually burned to death.

And now Thor was sitting in another special meeting with Fury droning on about how important it was that they caught this serial killer. As if no one already knew that. But it was hard for Thor to stay focused on catching a killer since his thoughts kept slipping to Loki. He kept thinking about his failed marriage to Sigyn, about that horrible phone-call this morning and how he was currently in a job-interview. Thor hoped with all his heart and soul that Loki got that job. It would be a nice distraction.

He wished he could just help his brother.

"Where's your head, Thor?" Steve asked as soon as Fury declared the meeting over. "You're constantly zoning out."

"Sorry," Thor sighed. "It's my brother. I think his divorce is slowly turning into a battle of sorts." He stood and gathered all his papers and notes – not that he made many notes. "I'm just worried about him, that's all."

Steve nodded, nothing but sincerity in his gaze. "I understand," he said. "But right now, you need to keep your head in this game. We have a sadistic bastard to catch. I already spoke to Dr. Banner this morning and he believes that it's only going to get worse from here on out."

Thor found himself strangely skeptical towards that piece of information. "Can it get any worse? This guy was tortured and burned to death, Steve. How can someone top that?"

"Apparently," Steve said solemnly. "It _can_ get worse. Let's just hope we don't find out _how_ worse."

Thor nodded and got to work and for a few hours, he forgot about Loki's troubles again.

~ 0 ~

With a new victim on their hands, Thor had been forced to do some overtime that day. A lot needed to be done after all. Statements needed to be collected and investigated, the media needed to be kept at bay, family had to be informed and much, much more. Safe to say, it had been a tiring day and when Thor had finally gotten home around midnight, he hadn't expected Loki to be lying on the couch, the TV still playing some ridiculous, awful movie.

"Loki?" He asked as he entered the living room. He switched on the light which seemed to wake Loki from a slumber. He looked absolutely exhausted. "Why are you still up?"

"Oh, hi, Thor," Loki greeted him. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands and straightened his back. "I wanted to stay up for you. I heard about the new victim on the news."

Thor raised one eyebrow. "And you stayed up because…?"

"I wanted to…" Loki hesitated. "I guess I wanted to make sure that you were okay. According to the news-report, it was quite the gruesome death."

Hearing Loki say those words caused him to smile – not the gruesome death part, of course, the making-sure-he-was-okay-part. "I'm thankful for your concern, Loki," he said. "But it's nothing I haven't seen before. I'm fine and you shouldn't have stayed up."

Loki shrugged. He reached for the remote and switched off the TV.

"But I'm glad that I still catch you tonight," Thor continued. He walked over to Loki and dropped down on the couch beside him. "How was the job interview? Did you get it?"

"I don't know," Loki answered. With the TV now switched off, it was almost eerily quiet in the living room. When none spoke, they could only hear the faint ticking of the clock above the door. "I'm expecting a call on Friday, but I think it went okay. I'm actually overqualified for the job which might be a hindrance, but then again, I've always wondered what it would be like to be a statistical analyst in such a big, multinational corporation."

"I'm sure you'll have that job," Thor said confidently. "Did you meet the big guy for the interview?"

Loki nodded and he actually appeared excited. "We had such an interesting conversation," he replied. "He really is a smart guy and once you get past that intimidating first appearance, you find that he's quite a normal guy, too."

If Thor didn't know better, he would think Loki was impressed. "Did he mention Stark?"

"No, of course he didn't," Loki answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "It's kinda…_private_, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Thor said. "Anyway, we should both get to bed. It's after midnight and I have to get up early tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"I really hope you have that job," Thor said as he stood, Loki following his example.

Loki smiled. "Me, too."

_**July 8**__**th**__**, Monday.**_

As always, there was no piece of evidence that lead the police to the killer. No matter how hard Thor and all his colleagues worked to find that bastard, it seemed that said bastard was simply too smart to get caught. Banner had said something about them only being able to catch him when the killer wanted to be caught, but Thor didn't believe that. Sooner or later, the bastard would make a mistake and they would nail him to the wall.

Thor really hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

It was Steve who drove him home that day when Loki had asked to borrow his car. It had been Loki's first day of working for Stark Industries and he would get a company car tomorrow. Of course Thor had allowed him to use his car. At this point, Thor would grant Loki's every request – as long as it was within the realm of possibilities and still legal. He was a detective after all, which meant he had an image to uphold. But anyway, it had been no problem to ask Steve to pick him up and bring him back home again for one day.

"Do you need a lift tomorrow?" Steve asked as he pulled up at Thor's driveway.

"No, thanks," Thor replied, grabbing his bag and coat at his feet. He checked if his gun was still safely strapped to his side. "Why don't you stay for dinner? Loki said he was going to cook a pasta dish or something. Not surprisingly, he's a good cook."

"Is there anything you can do better than your brother?" Steve asked, raising one eyebrow while humor and amusement laced his voice.

"Not really, no," Thor chuckled.

Steve laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that Thor enjoyed to hear. Steve was one of his best friends and each chance he got to make him laugh, he would take. Or perhaps he was simply overcompensating because he wasn't able to make Loki laugh anymore – not like he used to anyway. Then again, Thor doubted that there were many things that could make Loki laugh right now.

"I didn't think so," Steve replied, directing Thor's thoughts away from Loki again. "However, I must decline your offer. I told Peggy I would be home at seven and look at that-" He nodded towards the small clock in his car's dashboard, "-it's five past seven so I'm already in trouble."

An idea hit Thor. "Why don't you go pick her up and then come back here? I'm sure there is enough food. Loki always cooks for the entire neighborhood because he still believes I eat like a hippopotamus and before you ask or say anything, no, I do _not_ in fact eat that much. I just work out, thank you very much."

Steve snorted. After a short moment of silence where he contemplated Thor's offer once more, he said, "Okay, I will accept then. Peggy and I were just going to order some food anyway so I guess we might as well come have dinner with you. Besides, I would love to taste your brother's cooking." It wasn't the first time Steve and Peggy would have dinner at his place.

Thor was kinda looking forward to introducing his little brother to Steve and Peggy, because he wasn't shy to admit that he was proud of him. He would always be proud of him. "I'll see you in twenty minutes then," he said as he got out of the car.

Steve nodded. "Yeah."

~ 0 ~

Thor entered his house, already feeling the weight of his work fall from his shoulders. This was his home. His sanctuary. When he was here, he didn't have to think about paperwork, unsolved thefts, rapists, killers, serial killers, or anything else. He could just come home, take in a deep breath, and forget about the world's miseries for the evening.

Unfortunately, coming home now also meant dealing with Loki. He loved that his brother was currently staying at his place, but Thor also kinda hated it and that made him hate himself. Sure, he was proud of Loki and of course he loved having him around and he loved him dearly, but…Thor just didn't know how to handle the whole divorce-thing. It was ridiculous, really. It wasn't even _his_ divorce. Thor just didn't know how to help Loki.

Yes, that was the problem. Now more than ever, Thor felt useless.

He tossed his bag into the corner and dropped his wallet and phone onto the low closet near the front door where he kept all his keys and also, the mail. He checked if any important letters had arrived today, but he saw nothing. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the peg. The smell of pasta and salmon hit him suddenly and Thor realized just how hungry he was. A smile curved the edges of his lips upwards. He did hope Loki wouldn't be angry with him for inviting Steve and Peggy over, but he somehow doubted it.

He turned to the door that would lead him into the kitchen but instantly came to a halt.

For a moment he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

He stood frozen.

A large red spot seemed to glow in the middle of the white door. It seemed to taunt him, dare him, mock him. Underneath the large spot, several smaller ones were visible and Thor had seen enough crime scenes to recognize a blood-splatter when he saw one. He also had enough knowledge to know that a person needed to have a really bad wound or cut to produce that much blood.

_Blood_.

Thor's heart was beating furiously within his chest. It apparently wanted to jump _out_ of his chest.

He still couldn't breathe.

And then he heard a voice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: Thank you, Greenloki, for all the help you've given me! Thank you, my dear readers, for sticking with this story. Thanks for the reviews for the previous chapter and I sincerely hope you'll like this chapter, too!**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 3**

And then he heard a voice.

It wasn't Loki. Thor was able to recognize his brother's voice anywhere and he knew that _that_ was not him. It was deeper and somehow sharper, too, but he couldn't hear what the voice said, he couldn't distinguish any words. Thor reached for the gun still strapped to his side and checked so see if it was loaded and locked. It was, but it didn't make him feel any safer or stronger.

He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. Now more than ever did he need to stay calm and in control of himself. It was difficult, though, because what if Loki had been attacked by a madman? What if he had been murdered and the killer was still in his house? Had it been a killer's voice he'd just heard? The idea was almost surreal. What if in a second, he would face the man that had destroyed his life because if Loki was dead, then Thor's life was gone, too.

Slowly and carefully, he pushed open the door that led into the kitchen while making sure he didn't touch the blood. In the end, it was evidence and Thor didn't want to mess that up. Besides, the thought that it was Loki's blood made his stomach churn painfully. He didn't _want_ to touch it, he didn't want Loki's blood on his hands. But he couldn't be certain that it _was_ in fact his little brother's blood. What if someone had broken in and Loki had merely defended himself? What if that blood belonged to the attacker instead? What if Loki was absolutely fine?

'_Then why didn't you hear your brother?_' reasoned that hushed, but rational voice in the back of his head. Why did he hear a stranger's voice instead? Dread filled him, confusing him and almost weighing him down. He knew he should be Thor, the detective, right now, but it was impossible. He was Thor, the brother, and he couldn't think straight. He faintly realized he should get out of the house, he should grab his cellphone in the hallway and call 911, but he could only think of Loki right now. He had to help him – even though he couldn't know for certain yet that he did in fact _need_ help.

The kitchen was empty with different pots and pans standing on the counter, half cooked food in them. Thor instantly walked towards them and felt the metal with the back of his hand to find it was lukewarm. That meant that whatever had happened hadn't happened that long ago. His gaze fell on the floor then and he noticed various drops of blood leading towards the door that led to the living room. It was rather hard to miss actually and Thor felt stupid for not having noticed sooner.

So someone had gotten hurt in the hall, he deduced, and had made his way through the kitchen, leaving blood on the floor and apparently on the doorknob as well. Thor swallowed heavily as he reached the door. The unknown voice had definitely come from the living room and Thor didn't know whether or not he was ready to face whatever lay behind it.

But then there was that voice again.

He tightened his grip on his gun before carefully pushing open the door. Much to his relief, his actions were slow and controlled, but the moment he stepped into his living room, he felt all sense leave his body and mind. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He could only stare at the scene before him with large blue eyes filled with shock. He could only take in every detail and tell himself that it was all real. It was very real.

"Put down your gun."

Thor heard the words, but he somehow didn't understand them. He only saw Loki. He only saw emerald green eyes filled with fear, horror, panic, shock and bewilderment. It was one of those rare occasions where he could read the plethora of emotions in Loki's gaze.

After a second that seemed to have lasted an eternity, Thor finally found the courage to take in all the other details. He saw the man standing directly behind his seated brother. He saw dark eyes that radiated nothing but danger and unpredictability. He saw the knife in the man's right hand – a knife that was tightly pressed against Loki's throat, making it difficult for him to breathe properly.

Thor kept his gun aimed at the intruder's head, but he didn't dare to fire. Not yet anyway. His apprehensive gaze fell to Loki's right arm where he saw a large cut through his torn sleeve. It explained where all the blood came from.

"Put down you gun," the man repeated. "Or I _will _cut your brother's throat."

After a moment of hesitation, Thor figured he didn't have much of a choice. He couldn't risk firing at the intruder, but shooting his brother. He couldn't risk missing his target either because that would give their attacker the incentive to hurt Loki. So he lowered his weapon while witnessing Loki shake his head faintly. He understood his silent message to shoot the maniac in the head, but Thor simply couldn't risk it. Protecting Loki, saving him, that was now his only goal in life right now.

"Put it on the table and slide it towards the middle."

Thor did and he understood that this way, no one could reach the weapon, not swiftly and effectively anyway. Finally, something seemed to click inside Thor's mind. _Finally_, everything started to make sense and he couldn't believe he hadn't understood the moment he had entered the living room. He was an idiot. A _fool_! And how could he not have recognized him instantly? He was a _blind_ fool. He'd seen his picture enough times. Anyone could recognize him. Anyone across the world!

Tony Stark.

Actually, it made _no_ sense.

"It's you," he breathed, his gaze continuously switching between his brother and Stark – the bastard, the maniac. If he wasn't mistaken – and that could very well be the case because Thor wasn't thinking straight right now – he noticed Loki relax if only a little now that he was there. Still, he needed to focus. He needed to play this smart if he wanted them to survive. "You're the serial killer the police have been chasing these past few months."

"No," Stark corrected him. His dark gaze bore into Thor's and it spoke of something perilous, something ominous. Then again, he _was_ holding a knife to his little brother's throat. "I'm the serial killer _you_ have been chasing these past few months." An ever so faint smirk curved Stark's lips upwards. "I know who you are, Thor Odinson. You are one of the principal detectives on my case."

Thor swallowed heavily. He didn't know what this meant, but Stark knowing that he was a detective trying to catch him couldn't possibly be a good thing. "And what is this then?" He was relieved to find his voice strong and confident while on the inside he was trembling like a small child. "Some sort of warning? A punishment?"

Stark shook his head. "This is nothing more than an opportunity," he explained. "I saw Loki here leaving _my_ building and I just knew he had met with Stane. I followed him because I decided he was to be my next victim, but then I discovered he was related to you. Honestly, it was too good to be true. It was meant to be!"

Just like everyone buying a newspaper or the occasional tabloid, Thor knew of Tony Stark's…_issues_, but now he was starting to comprehend that Obadiah Stane had actually been minimizing those issues. Everyone knew Stark was an egotistical, narcissistic, conceited bastard with compulsive behavior and sometimes, self-destructive tendencies. At least, that was how the media portrayed him. Everyone just assumed that was the truth, because how else had Stane been able to get him off the board?

Oh. _Oh._ It all made sense! It made so much sense that it was practically screaming at Thor. Tony Stark had lost control of his company months ago, right about the same time the murders had started and-

It didn't matter. All that mattered was the fact that Stark stood in his living room, posed behind Loki with a knife pressed against his throat.

"I'm here now," Thor said, realizing that it was best that he kept talking, that he kept Stark distracted. After all, he had a back-up plan. How long had he been home now? Five minutes? Ten? Steve and Peggy would be here soon and together, they would be able to overpower Stark. Yes, all Thor needed to do was stall. "You can let my brother go and we can deal with the situation ourselves."

Stark's gaze narrowed. "And why would I do that?" He asked incredulously. "Why would I surrender my primary source of power? Of control?" To emphasize his words, he grabbed a fistful of Loki's raven hair and yanked it back. Loki's throat became even more exposed, the dagger pressing against his skin already leaving a faint mark. Two drops of blood trickled down and Loki let out a strangled cry, but he never took his gaze away from his big brother.

Anger coursed through Thor, consuming him, claiming him. He would like nothing more than to jump forward and beat his fists against Stark's face. As a child, he had always found himself responsible for Loki. He had always tried to protect him, but Loki had been intelligent and mature for his age. Even as children, it had always been Loki who got Thor out of trouble. But now, when Loki needed him more than ever, Thor was useless.

He couldn't help but think that Tony Stark was nothing short of insane. He was probably right, too. He tried to remember what Bruce Banner had told the police department about the serial killer they had been trying to catch for so long. He tried to remember the profile he had composed, but all he could think about right now – besides that he somehow had to save Loki – was Stark's last victim; Phil Coulson. The poor man had been tortured before getting burned to death. Banner had told them that the killings would only get worse, but Thor didn't understand how _this_ was _worse_. It was hell for him and Loki of course, but how was this a continuation of Stark's violence? How was this worse than torture?

But _oh_. Again, Thor's brain had worked too slowly. This _was _worse than torture wasn't it? It wasn't in the sense that Stark could inflict an excessive amount of physical pain to someone, but that he now had control over not one individual, but two. Two lives he controlled.

"What do you want?" Thor finally asked, his jaws clenched together. "The police to stop hunting you down? That won't happen." He realized that that might be the wrong approach, but he had to do _something_. "You are a murderer, Stark, and finally you have been discovered. You won't get away with this. You definitely won't be able to kill us both so by tomorrow morning, it will be in every newspaper. Where will you run? You've really screwed up now."

"I haven't screwed up," Stark replied angrily. "This is all just part of my plan. I just couldn't let this opportunity pass." Thor couldn't help but remember the obsessive compulsive behavior, but he didn't have time to ponder about that for too long. Stark resembled a wounded, caged animal which meant he was now more dangerous than ever. So Thor had messed up; he shouldn't have verbally attacked him. "Perhaps this was a bad choice," Stark continued. "But in the end, I shall be the victor."

Thor said nothing. He wanted to throw a glance at his watch, but that might warn Tony that something was up. Besides, he didn't want to withdraw his gaze from Loki. He kept staring at him, silently promising him that everything would be alright. He knew his promise was empty.

"So why?" Thor already knew the answer, but it would at least keep Stark talking. He merely wished he could somehow get closer to Stark and Loki, but there was a long table separating them. He was also convinced that if he made one wrong movement, he would regret it. Tony Stark would _make_ him regret it.

"Ever since Stane got me thrown from the board," Stark sneered, suddenly turning furious in the blink of an eye. "Ever since that asshole stole my company from me, I have been trying to find a way to prove myself. He told the world that I'm delusional, that I am insane, but this will shut him up. All the blood I've shed is on Stane's hands!"

Thor was completely taken aback by Stark's outburst. He could deal with rapists and standard murderers, but he could not deal with a deranged, maniacal serial killer, certainly not while he held a sharp object to his little brother's throat.

He hadn't thought it possible, but his heart began to beat even faster. "So you killed all those people to prove that you're not crazy?" He asked, unable to wrap his head around Tony's explanation.

"I mostly killed them because I was angry," Stark replied, shrugging. "And I was bored. Have you ever killed a man, Thor? It's quite addictive."

Thor couldn't help but glance at the gun lying in the middle of the table. With every passing second, he knew that he should have shot the bastard the second he'd entered the room. He should have at least tried to injure him in order to stop this madness. This was all getting out of hand.

"Each time I killed someone," Stark continued and right now, he appeared to be in his own private little world. "I had to do better. It's such a rush, a kick, but you always need more and more to reach that same high. I tortured the last man. He screamed and he cried and he begged and I felt…" He sucked in a deep breath, his gaze focusing on Thor again. "I felt good. I felt _powerful_."

Thor prayed Steve would arrive any moment now.

"But what is one person?" Stark asked, talking as if he were talking about the most normal thing in the world. "This, oh _this_ is so much better. For the first time, I am in control of two lives."

Speaking for the first time since Thor arrived, Loki muttered, "You can't kill us both."

Stark replied by yanking at his hair again and cutting him just below his chin. "Shut up," he barked.

Loki flinched under his touch, but he didn't make a sound. Thor had never admired his little brother more than in this moment. He couldn't help but feel proud that he was handling the situation so well.

"I can kill you in a second!" Stark hissed at Loki. "And if I kill you, wouldn't that destroy your big brother?" His brown eyes landed back on Thor now that Loki had grown silent again. "Watching your younger brother die before your eyes, that must leave a deep wound, no? A wound that could never heal. A wound that might infect until it slowly kills you, too. This is the most powerful rush I've had in months."

"But you won't," Thor breathed. He felt his heart race within his chest. He felt sick to his stomach and for a moment he feared he might actually throw up. "You won't kill my brother because if you do, your control is gone."

A long second passed where Thor and Tony stared into each other's eyes.

"Through this," Stark finally said. "I will always have control over you."

Thor screamed. "_No_!"

Loki didn't get a chance to scream.

In one swift movement, Stark slid the knife clean across Loki's throat.

Blood flowed freely.

Loki fell down.

Jumping forward – not quite knowing what the hell he was doing – Thor grabbed the gun and fired twice without really aiming. Right now, he was acting on pure instinct. He wasn't thinking. He wasn't breathing. His mind seemed to have completely shut down. He watched how one bullet broke the window behind Stark while the second tore its way through Stark's shoulder, the force knocking him back. Thor didn't even bother to watch Stark fall down.

He just rushed forward to the fallen, slumped figure of his little brother.

There was blood everywhere.

"_Loki_…" Thor stuttered. He knelt on the ground besides him and saw the deep slash across his throat. Blood streamed from the wound, but that's not what shocked Thor the most. It was seeing Loki's wide, shocked green eyes. It was witnessing his agony and most of all, his fear. His gaze betrayed nothing more than instinctual, overwhelming _fear_.

Thor grabbed the tablecloth and pulled it towards him, pressing the fabric against Loki's neck, desperately trying to stelp the bleeding. If he failed, Loki would die from blood-loss in a matter of seconds. Tears began to stream down Thor's face, but he didn't care. He only cared for his brother.

"It's going to okay," he stammered, not knowing whether he was assuring Loki or himself. "You're going to be fine."

Loki suddenly wrapped his bloodied fingers around one of Thor's already bloodied wrists. Thor couldn't handle this. He couldn't handle seeing that panic and anxiety and despair in Loki's eyes. He couldn't handle the smell of the blood or the sound of Loki's gurgling breaths.

"_Tho_-" Loki tried, but of course he couldn't speak.

"Save your breath," Thor told him, blinking away his tears and in doing so, hoping to blink away his desperation. He needed to think and he needed to act quickly. He glanced around to see if Loki's phone didn't happen to lie nearby since his own phone was still in the hallway. He hated the idea of leaving Loki behind, if only for two seconds because he wanted to stay with him, comfort him and most of all, he needed to keep pressure on the wound which was vital to Loki's survival.

Only then did he realize.

Tony Stark was gone.

"Fuck!" Thor cursed. He wished that he was dreaming right now, he wished that this was all a big, messed up nightmare, but Loki's death grip on his wrist told him that this was very real. "Fuck. _Fuck_." What the hell was he supposed to do? He had been trained to deal with situations such as these, but… How did someone handle _this_? How did someone cope with the fact that their little brother lay dying in their arms?

The door to the living room suddenly burst open. "Thor? I heard gunshots and-" Steve, gun in hand, came to an instant halt when he saw the scene before him. Thor couldn't help but think that he'd come too late. "Oh, shit," Steve breathed.

"It's Tony Stark," he managed to utter. "I shot him, Steve, but he got away." He glanced at the broken window behind him. "He couldn't have gotten far." He needed that bastard caught. He needed him behind bars – or dead – because as long as Stark was still out there, Loki would never truly be safe.

Steve ran to the broken, blood-stained window.

"Oh my god," another new, soft voice said.

Thor glanced up to find Peggy standing a few feet away from him. "Call 911," he told her. She didn't hesitate to follow that order.

"I'll find him, Thor," Steve announced and with that, he disappeared through the broken window and into Thor's backyard.

Thor turned his attention back to Loki. Emerald green eyes had dulled a bit, having lost their edge and Thor did not like it one bit. Loki was barely breathing anymore and there was blood _everywhere_. "Stay with me, Loki," he begged. "You have to stay with me, do you hear me?"

Loki didn't respond. He didn't nod his head, he didn't blink. Thor was started to doubt if he could still hear him. When his eyes fluttered shut, he knew that Loki was falling unconscious and that frightened him more than anything. "No, Loki," he commanded with a loud, stern, but shaky voice. He hoped that his voice would bring Loki back, but that didn't happen. He continued to keep pressure on the badly bleeding wound. "Open your eyes, Loki!"

In the distance, sirens wailed.

"You hear that?" Thor said to his now unconscious brother. He would not die. He would _not_ die! "The ambulance is coming and you will be fine. Everything will be just fine." Only when he noticed Peggy kneeling down beside him – a desperate, petrified expression in her eyes – did he look away from Loki for a moment. Peggy remained silent, but he didn't need to hear her speak to know what she was thinking. She had already lost hope. "He'll survive," he almost scolded her. "Loki can survive anything."

Again, she said nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: Thank you so much for your feedback! I'm glad you all liked the previous chapter. I know, what on earth have I done? But here is the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! I also want to thank Greenloki for all the help she's given me. Check out her stories; they are glorious!**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 4**

Waiting was the worst. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours, but Thor remained unmoving. He simply sat in an old, worn chair in a too bright hallway. The smell of medicine, blood and disinfectant was everywhere. Nurses passed him. Doctors rushed by. He heard children cry and parents cry even harder, but somehow that didn't faze him. Thor felt as if he was located inside a large bubble, separating him from the rest of the world.

He stared into the distance, his thoughts running wild. He kept feeling Loki's blood spill over his hands. He kept seeing that desperation and fear in his wide, green eyes. It was something that could never be unseen.

The touch of a warm hand on top of his called him out of his own little world and he realized tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He gazed to his left to find Peggy sitting beside him. He'd forgotten she had come with him to the hospital, but he was glad she was here now. His fingers curled around hers, a warm, comforting gesture, but of course that did nothing to dull the pain and fear he was currently experiencing.

"Can I get you something?" Peggy asked softly. Her brown eyes spoke of nothing but kindness and sympathy. It was something he didn't often see within her. Peggy was – by all means – a hard woman. She could be sweet, yes, and she often smiled, but there was always a sharp edge to her, a shield protecting her. Thor supposed that was normal for a woman making such a career in the military. Or maybe it wasn't. He didn't know.

"I'm fine," he replied. For a moment, he stared at their intertwined hands and realized that this was the first time he touched Peggy in such a way. In all the years he knew her, he had hugged her perhaps two times. He had definitely never held her hand – or in this case, she had definitely never held his.

And then she did something she had not once done before. "He'll be fine." She _lied_.

"Don't," Thor said and Peggy did as he requested. She didn't say anything else and that was okay. She just sat with him, held his hand, and that was good enough for him. Her presence was good enough for him.

It was well after midnight when a surgeon approached them. "Thor Odinson?" He asked. Thor all but jumped up from his seat, finally letting go of Peggy's hand. The surgeon stayed calm and professional. "We've managed to stabilize your brother," he explained. "But he lost a lot of blood and his condition remains critical. The next forty-eight hours are crucial."

Thor nodded, taking in the information. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. Loki was alive, he was breathing and his heart was beating, and that was all he needed to know.

"Can I see him?" He asked. He'd stopped crying.

"Only for a few minutes."

~ 0 ~

Walking into intensive care was something Thor had done a dozen times already, but each time he had been here as part of his job. It had been to visit victims of robberies, car accidents, and a few attempted murders. This was the first time – and he sincerely hoped it would be the last time –he was here as family, as someone's brother. He walked through a long, white and mostly abandoned hallway. The surgeon was no longer with him, instead a short, kind looking nurse was escorting him towards Loki's room.

Thor felt surprisingly calm, though with each step he took, he felt his nerves slowly claim him again. It was a mystery how he kept his breathing under control and how his heart was beating steadily within his chest. His mind raced with a hundred different thoughts, though. He was about to see his little brother and he had no idea what to expect. That frightened him more than anything in this world.

"He's right through that door," the nurse said as they were almost at the end of the hallway. Large windows gave the opportunity to look into every room – as to monitor different patients - but Thor didn't have to courage to look at Loki through a window. He felt that would distance himself from his little brother, as if that would make it less real. And it _was _real. "You can only stay for a few minutes," the nurse continued. "If you need anything, just press the red button above the bed."

Nodding absentmindedly, Thor pushed open the wooden door and entered the little hospital room, his gaze slowly landing on his younger brother. The sight knocked all air from his lungs. He couldn't stay calm anymore, he couldn't even _breathe_ anymore.

Loki lay eerily still in the wide hospital bed, his arms neatly placed beside his body. His eyes were closed, the skin around them grey and blue. There were tubes and wires _everywhere_ and the hospital gown had been pushed down so that they exposed his pale shoulders and granted nurses and doctors better access to all the tubes connected to his body. A thick white bandage had been wrapped around his neck. For a moment, Thor expected to see blood somewhere, but Loki looked sickeningly clean.

What frightened him most of all, however, was seeing the medical ventilator forcing air into Loki's lungs through a plastic endotracheal tube. _He couldn't breathe on his own_! A long, white plaster running from Loki's one ear to his other kept the tube in place.

And there was noise everywhere; a continuous beeping told Thor that Loki's heart was beating, the ventilator produced a heavy sighing sound each time it pumped oxygen into Loki's lungs, and another machine rattled softly as it monitored his blood-pressure and other vitals.

Thor realized he had been standing still in the doorway for a long time now, staring at the unmoving form of his brother. He forced himself to walk forward, to approach Loki even if the image scared the hell out of him. It was up to him to be strong now.

Carefully, he took hold of Loki's cold hand and squeezed it.

"I'm here," he said softly. He was relieved to hear his voice calm and steady. Could Loki hear him? He somehow doubted it, but he kept talking anyway. "I need you to hang in there, okay? Just rest and take your time, but…hang in there." He felt so incredibly silly. "I still have to call mom and dad," he suddenly realized. "They'll throw a fit, Loki. They'll be so mad. Not with you, of course, but-" He stopped talking, listening to the loud machines instead.

"I'll have to call Jane, too," he said quietly. He really needed her right now. He wanted to feel the softness of her hands in his and hear her comforting voice. She had only met Loki two or three times before, but she would cry anyway when she would her the news and Thor wouldn't mind. He would cry with her.

He swallowed heavily as he felt tears invade his eyes, but he did not allow them to roll down his cheeks. "I'll find that son of a bitch," he promised his little brother. "I swear that he'll pay for this."

And with that, he let go of Loki's hand and walked out of the room. He had work to do.

_**July 9**__**th**__**, Tuesday**_

Silent.

That was how Thor currently experienced his surroundings as he stood in the hallway just outside of the intensive care ward. He could no longer hear his mother's muffled sobbing or his father's labored breathing. He could no longer hear half a dozen machines clicking and beeping around him, all monitoring Loki's vitals and keeping him alive. And then there was the worst sound of them all: that sighing sound that confronted Thor again and again with the fact that Loki could still not breathe on his own.

He had watched a madman cut his throat and when Thor closed his eyes – like he did now - he could still see Loki's horrified expression. He could still see the absolute terror that had filled those emerald green eyes that split second before Stark had cut him.

Unable to breathe as panic and nausea overwhelmed him, Thor slid down the wall he had been leaning against, and put his head between his knees. _Keep yourself together_, he told himself, _for mother and father_. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them escape. Seeing Loki comatose was hard enough for Odin and Frigga. They did not need to see Thor have a mental breakdown.

But Thor found himself crying anyway. He cried because his little brother was in the hospital, because Tony _fucking_ Stark had nearly killed him, because he'd been unable to protect Loki, because…because… He swallowed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. _Pathetic_, he scowled at himself, _you can't even keep yourself together_!

Rushed footsteps sounded nearby suddenly and Thor groaned quietly at the idea of a nurse approaching him, asking him if he was alright. _Of course he wasn't alright_! When he glanced up, however, ready to spill whatever lie he needed to spill in order to be left alone, he saw _her_. Her long brown hair was messy and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days, but in that moment, Thor found her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Jane," he said, sighing.

She crouched down before him, tears already in her eyes. She lifted her hands to his face, her thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had fallen from his eyes. A second later and without one word, she wrapped her arms around him. In the end, Thor didn't know how long they sat there, holding each other and comforting each other. He just knew that he had longed to feel her soothing embrace and now that he had it, he crumbled.

He pulled her as close as was physically possible and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Even the smell of her hair comforted him, but he could still not stop himself from breaking down. It just needed to get out, because keeping all that fear and terror and desperation inside was slowly killing him.

"I got on the first plane home when I got your call," she told him softly, refusing to let him go for which Thor would be forever grateful. She brushed aside some of his blond hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, Thor."

"He looks so…" He couldn't finish his sentence, all the words suddenly disappearing from his mind.

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay, my love, I've got you."

Thor didn't stop crying for a long time.

_**July 10**__**th**__**, Wednesday**_

When he arrived at the police station, he felt as if he'd arrived in an ant-nest. There was activity everywhere – people talking, people typing away on their computers, people rushing about, papers in hand – and Thor felt strangely out of place. He used to be part of this activity, but now he had become the outsider, he had become nothing more than family of the victim. For the first time, he knew what it felt like for people to arrive here and see all the officers buzzing about, barely sparing them a glance.

He inhaled sharply, pulling himself together and then pushed his way through his many colleagues. Those that spotted him offered him sympathetic and pitiful glances, but Thor didn't want those. He just made his way to Fury's office, keeping his head down and ignoring all the people around him.

Just as he was about to knock on Fury's closed door, it swung open. Normally, Fury was a very intimidating man, but with everything that had happened recently, Thor found it hard to feel intimidated by _anything_ at this point. He already survived his worst nightmare two nights ago. Hell, it was still going on! Fearing Fury was the least of his concerns.

"Odinson," Fury said, more surprised than he was willing to show. At least _he_ didn't bother with telling Thor how sorry he was. Thor was grateful for that. "What are you doing here?"

"Give me something to do," he said, staring directly into Fury's one good eye. "I know the bastard got away, but he's injured. He couldn't have gotten far. You need all the help you can get, Director."

Fury sighed heavily through his nose as he pressed his lips together. He put a hand on Thor's shoulder – a very uncharacteristic gesture for him – though his gaze never wavered. He never turned sorrowful or vicarious. "Thor," he said, and it might well be the first time he ever used his first name to address him. "Your brother is in the hospital and he needs you more than I do. Go to him."

"He's in a coma," Thor snapped. "He doesn't know if I'm there or not."

Fury arched one eyebrow.

For a moment, Thor felt the instinct to apologize – one just doesn't snap to their boss – but he realized he couldn't care less about courtesy right now. Besides, he hadn't slept in over 48 hours. He wasn't thinking particularly straight.

"I just need…" he began, but he couldn't immediately finish that sentence. Why were there tears in his eyes? God, he hated himself! He rubbed a hand over his face in an effort to pull himself together. He partially succeeded. "I need to keep busy, Director. I'm losing my mind in the hospital. I'm losing my mind each time I glance at my parents and they look broken."

Telling his mother and father what had happened to their youngest son might well be the second hardest thing he'd ever done in his life – the hardest thing being him trying to save Loki's life. They had looked so torn, so sad, so fragile. Frigga had started crying of course and Odin had turned deathly pale. And ever since, they had been at the hospital even though they weren't allowed to sit with him all the time and the doctors urged them to get some rest.

And with Stark still on the loose, two police officers stood outside of Loki's hospital room at all times. It was very intimidated and Thor's parents had trouble dealing with it all. Hell, _he_ had trouble dealing with it all! It wasn't easy to see your son or brother lying in the hospital, fighting for his life, and the two cops stationed outside of the room didn't make matters easier. They somehow kept reminding everyone of the gravity of the situation, of the danger. Frigga in particular could hardly live with the fact that her youngest son might still need protection from a deranged serial killer.

"You've been compromised, Thor," Fury told him, his hand still firmly on Thor's shoulder. "I have no choice but to pull you from the case."

"_What_?" Thor felt shocked and somehow, betrayed too. "You can't do that!"

"Keep your voice down," Fury ordered.

Thor hadn't even noticed that he'd been shouting. He glanced around and found that a few of his colleagues were staring at him. Thor ignored them and returned his attention to his boss. "I have to help find the son of a bitch," he said, calmly again, though his voice held a sharpness that had never been there before. "Fury, he almost killed my brother. It's a miracle he'll survive."

For the first time, Fury openly showed his sympathies. "I'm sorry, Thor," he said. "For what has happened to your brother. I know you must feel-"

"_Don't_." Thor swallowed heavily, balling his hands into fists. Just thinking about what Stark had done to Loki made him frightened and furious at the same time. "Don't tell me that you know what I'm feeling," he said stubbornly. "You _can't_ know what I'm feeling, because you never had a brother who was almost murdered. You never had to witness a crazy man slit your brother's throat and you've never felt what it's like to feel your brother's blood flow freely over your hands."

He paused, forcing himself to inhale deeply.

Fury was staring at him.

"He's lost so much blood, Director," he said more calmly. "And he's very weak at the moment." Thinking about all this, telling Fury this, it made it hard for him to restrain his tears, but he somehow managed. "Just give me _something_ to do," he said. "_Anything_. Have me sort files for all I care!"

Fury shook his head. "I'm sending you on forced leave," he told him. "We have enough manpower to keep the situation under control. We know who we're looking for now and Stark won't be able to hide forever. Go to your brother, Thor."

He said nothing for a long moment, but he knew he couldn't win this battle with his boss. He nodded once and walked away, fully intending to leave the police station, but then his gaze fell on his partner; Steve Rogers. He hadn't seen him since the nightmare had transpired – though he did hear him over the phone a few times. He made his way across the bullpen and when Steve looked at him, Thor smiled sadly.

"I wanted to come to the hospital," Steve began. He stood up from his seat behind his desk when Thor had gotten close enough to hear him. "But I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed."

"It's okay, Steve. Besides, only family is allowed to see him at the moment," Thor explained with a faint smile. "And the doctors and two police officers outside Loki's room are very strict about it. They haven't even let Jane in to see him. Anyway, I rather have you here, trying everything within your power to catch the son of a bitch that did this to my brother."

"Listen, Thor," Steve continued, sounding careful and reluctant. "I'm so sorry I didn't catch him when I had the chance and I-"

Thor would have none of that! Without hesitating, he pulled Steve forward and hugged him. He didn't think he'd ever hugged his colleague and friend before, but it just seemed kinda right. When he released Steve from his tight grip, he kept a hand on his shoulder and stared into his doubtful, sorrowful eyes. "He might have gotten away," he told him. "But he won't get far. If there is one man in this entire force that I believe can catch him, it's you."

Steve smiled weakly. "I won't rest before he's behind bars."

"That's all I need to know."

_**July 12**__**th**__**, Friday**_

Tony hissed as he pressed the cold, damp cloth against his wounded shoulder. He'd hoped the coldness would have eased the pain somehow, but he'd never been so wrong before. Still, as he'd taken a shower, the wound had started to bleed again and Tony knew he had to stelp it. He increased the pressure – hoping that would stop the bleeding more quickly - while his one hand desperately clung to the edge of the sink.

At least he'd gotten the bullet out yesterday. He felt like throwing up just remembering that kind of pain.

The small bathroom was sickeningly dirty with blood covering the inside of the shower, covering the tiles of the floor and now staining the sink, too. Thank God Tony didn't faint at the sight of it! But he did feel light in the head. It was hard to focus on anything and the edges of his vision darkened whenever he made too quick movements. _This_ hadn't been part of his plan.

Carefully, he removed the now red cloth and wiped away some of the dried blood around his shoulder, trying to examine the gunshot-wound. It was nearly impossible, however, since he couldn't get a proper look at it due to the angle. He just saw torn skin and a lot of blood while the edges of the wound had turned a dark shade of purple and black. That was not good. Not good at all.

_Fuck_!

He swayed dangerously to his left and Tony quickly tightened his hold on the sink to find his balance again. His legs felt weak as though his bones were slowly turning into jelly and he wondered if he'd even be able to make it to his bed without falling down or passing out.

He glanced up into the mirror and stared into his own dark eyes. He looked awful; like he'd walked through hell itself and back. His skin had a ghostly pale color, his eyes were sunken and his lips were dry and torn. He was breathing erratically.

Tony couldn't believe where he was either. A fucking motel room! How degrading! He, the great and brilliant Anthony Edward Stark was hiding in a _motel room_. And all because of those cursed Odinsons. Oh, how he hated them! They had ruined everything and now here Tony stood, broken and defeated and-

_No!_

He refused to be defeated after everything he'd gone through. He kept staring into his own eyes, telling himself that nothing was lost yet. Only a few days ago, he'd never been so powerful and he'd never felt so good. Holding that knife against the youngest Odinson's throat had made him feel strong and controlling. He'd been in control of life itself! Not just one, but _two_! But again, those fucking bastards had foiled him. Loki was supposed to be dead and Thor was supposed to have broken down into a million little pieces.

Tony glanced over his injured shoulder into the bedroom where he spotted the newspaper laying on the nightstand. The article on the front page spoke all about how Loki's condition was still critical, but that he was alive. It explained how the police knew exactly who to look for – Stark was the most wanted man in the country right now – and how Thor Odinson and the rest of their family stayed strong.

It couldn't be. It wasn't _meant_ to be.

Why had Loki survived? Was that another sign?

He honestly didn't know. It certainly didn't fit his plan. He'd thought that seeing Loki exit his building all that time ago had been a sign because it couldn't have been a coincidence! Out of all the people in this city, Stane had picked _him_ to work for the company – for _Tony's_ company. Loki, brother of Thor – Thor who had been hunting him down along with his dozen other detective-colleagues.

Why had Loki survived?

_Why_?

It made no sense! Clenching his teeth together, Tony stared back into the mirror. And suddenly he knew. Oh, it was so obvious. It _had_ been a sign. It _hadn't_ been a coincidence. It was just a mistake and he had to rectify it. Oh, it was all starting to make sense.

He just needed to finish what he'd started.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: Thank you, Greenloki, for your help with this chapter! I also want to think everyone who is reading this story, and especially those that leave me a kind, constructive review. :) I love each and everyone of you! I hope you will enjoy this next chapter.**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 5**

_**July 18**__**th**__**, Thursday**_

"Yeah, I'm on my way to see him right now, Mom," Thor said, his cellphone pressed in between his ear and shoulder as he climbed out of his car while simultaneously putting on his jacket. He'd promised his parents he would sit with Loki today since they couldn't. Thor was partially relieved that Frigga and Odin were going to stay home today. He'd begged them to take it easy, to rest for a bit, but of course they had refused. But the recent events had put a strain on Odin's heart and the doctors feared for his health. Thor hadn't hesitated to play on his parents' conscience. He'd begged them to stay home, to rest for a day, because he didn't want to see his father in a hospital bed either.

"The doctors say he might wake soon," Frigga said and even though Thor could not see her, he could definitely _hear_ the hope in her voice. "They're no longer keeping him in an induced coma, Thor, so should he wake, you will call me, right?"

Thor refrained himself from sighing as he crossed the parking lot and entered the hospital via the main entrance. "Of course I'll call," he promised his mother as he walked down a long, white hallway before reaching the elevators. "But the doctors also said it could take days, weeks even, before he eventually _does_ wake. Mother, you must stay calm. You must have patience and faith."

There was a short silence and Thor knew Frigga was fighting against her tears. "Talk to him, okay?" She said after a faint sob. "Don't just sit there. Talk to him. He'll hear you, Thor, Loki always hears you."

"Of course I'll talk to him," Thor assured his mother. The elevator doors opened and he got inside. It tore his heart into a million pieces to hear his mother so broken and it was entirely his fault. He had failed to protect his little brother and now their family was almost shattered. The elevator began to move, bringing him to the tenth floor. "Now you must promise me that you'll rest today," he continued. "You and father need to think about your own health, too."

"How can we think about our own health when our son lies in the hospital?" Frigga asked, her voice tight. She didn't sound accusingly, she just sounded tired and tense. "But I promise you that your father and I will rest today," she continued more softly. "You'll call if there are any changes, right?"

"Yes, mother," Thor replied as he felt the elevator come to a halt. "But I have to go now."

"Okay." Frigga sounded calmer somehow. "Call me when you return home."

The elevator doors opened and Thor walked out. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too."

The phone-call ended as Thor made his way through another long hallway and eventually reached the nurses' station. Only one nurse sat behind a desk, completely absorbed in filing away documents and preparing for today's work. The other nurses were probably doing rounds at the moment. Thor decided not to bother anyone, especially not the nurse at the station. She seemed very busy after all. It wasn't as if he needed anything. He knew where to find his brother, and he knew no changes had happened during the night. Otherwise, they would have called him.

Thor made his way across the hospital ward in no time. He had walked down these halls so many times already during the last few days that he already knew every inch of this place by heart. Taking a left turn, down the corridor, another left turn, and Thor found himself standing at the beginning of a long, mostly abandoned hallway.

Loki was, by all means, a special patient. He was a surviving victim of a serial killer who was still on the loose, and so the hospital staff and police had decided to put him in a remote chamber in this almost desolate hallway. It should allow for the police officers guarding him to keep a better eye on their surroundings. They could spot anyone arriving and it offered them better chances at protecting Loki should the need ever arise.

Thor sincerely and desperately hoped that need would _never_ arise.

The two police officers standing outside of Loki's room smiled politely when they spotted Thor walking towards them. Every morning, Thor arrived to find these men guarding his brother and every morning, he felt as if he should thank them, but he never actually did. He somehow just couldn't, because a part of him hated the fact that he wasn't enough to protect his little brother.

"Good morning, detective," the officer named Thomas said.

"Good morning, officers," Thor greeted them kindly. "Everything alright?"

The second officer named Christian nodded. "It was a calm night," he answered, having been briefed by the officers working the night shift. "There were no disturbances."

"Good to know," Thor smiled. "Thank you."

Entering the hospital room felt like walking into an air-tight chamber, because for some reason Thor could never breathe during those first few seconds. He knew perfectly well what to expect, what he would see after entering, and yet, he was never prepared. Loki lay so still in the bed, his arms positioned neatly beside his body with a blanket drawn up to his chest. There was no longer a tube sticking from Loki's mouth which was definitely an improvement, but he still looked so pale and fragile, and Thor just wanted to wrap him in his arms and hug him.

Instead, he took his regular seat beside him and placed his warm hand on top of Loki's colder one. He watched as Loki's chest rose and fell regularly with every breath he took. At least he was breathing on his own. Thor's blue gaze then fell to the various tubes still sticking out of his brother's thin, pale arms. He didn't know what they were all for, he just knew that the doctors had added another IV yesterday to administer a small dosage of morphine.

"Hi, Loki," he said, his voice tender as he addressed his little brother. "It's just me today. Mom and Dad are going to stay home, but don't think they didn't want to be here. I practically had to chain them down to prevent them from coming to visit you."

He chuckled at his own comments and gazed at Loki's passive features. For a moment, he expected a reply, but there was only silence. There used to be half a dozen machines beeping around them, but that wasn't the case anymore. Loki's condition was stable after all. They just needed to wait until he would wake.

Thor couldn't help but sigh heavily while he tightened his grip on Loki's hand.

"You have to wake, do you hear me?"

He brushed aside some strands of Loki's raven hair and remembered a time where they used to be so close. But then Loki had moved away to live with Sigyn, and Thor had been lucky if he saw his little brother five times a year. They had grown apart and they had become strangers in a way. They felt awkward around each other, but now…now Thor was holding his hand and brushing his fingers through his hair, and it felt like the most natural gestures.

"I've called Sigyn," he said almost reluctantly. Honestly, he wasn't convinced that Loki could hear him, but if he could, would he want to hear about _her_? Thor distinctly remembered Loki telling him that he did not love her anymore and that the whole divorce hurt him more than anything, but…this was _Sigyn_ and Loki had been married to her for over seven years! They had been together for a lot longer than that. "She is going to come down here very soon," he eventually continued. "She was very shocked and distraught when I told her what happened, but I had to call her, you know? I didn't want her to hear it on the news…"

What on earth was he doing?

"Anyway…" He let go of Loki's hand and leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his tired face. "Talking to you would be so much easier if you'd reply. Seriously, these one-sided conversations are very hard and I-"

"_Hey_!"

Thor instantly tensed when he heard that shout, and he easily recognized that voice; it was police officer Thomas who had yelled out, but Thor had trouble understanding what was happening. Or perhaps he just refused to face reality. He quickly sprung to his feet and turned to look at the large window which gave him a perfect view of the hallway.

There was a strange, almost dull thud – a sound Thor had heard a few times before during his many years with the police-force, but he somehow refused to believe that the sound was _that_. It could not have been a silenced gunshot. It just couldn't have been! Thor started to panic and then he heard a loud thump.

He knew that was a body that had fallen lifelessly to the floor.

A second later, Thor watched as police officer Christian stumbled back while reaching for the gun strapped to his side. _Fuck_, was all Thor could think. Another dull thud followed, and Thor watched as Christian fell down, a bullet having torn its way through the man's skull. Thor felt sick to his stomach, not because he was seeing so much blood suddenly, but because he had fallen straight into a nightmare again and he couldn't process it.

He turned back to look at his little brother lying impassively and almost peaceful in the bed. Loki had no idea what was what was happening, or what was _about_ to happen, and Thor could only think that he had to protect him. He had failed once. He could not fail again!

The nightmare had never ended.

Thor frantically looked around for something – _anything_ – he could use as a weapon, but he found nothing, and it didn't matter anyway. There simply wasn't enough time. The door burst open and he spun around, placing himself directly in front of Loki, wanting to shield him from any attack, but he faintly realized his actions were pointless – _Why the fuck didn't I bring my gun_, he thought frenziedly!

And there _he_ stood.

Thor couldn't believe it. Was this even real?

Tony Stark lifted the gun with a silencer attached to it, and aimed it at Thor's head.

This was most definitely real!

Stark looked like hell, his skin having a ghostly pale color and his eyes were dark and void of emotion as he stood there, slightly hunching forward. Thor could tell that his shoulder probably hurt like hell since that's where he had managed to shoot him. _Good_, he thought bitterly. More than anything, however, Stark looked exhausted, all the energy seemingly having been drained from him, and even though he looked like he could pass out any moment now, he was still very dangerous.

Thor couldn't breathe anymore. Or perhaps he just refused to breathe. He couldn't tell the difference at this point. He was panicking and he couldn't think straight. What the fuck was he supposed to do? How on earth was he supposed to protect his brother from this madman?

"Sit down," Stark barked at him.

Refusing to obey, Thor simply swallowed heavily. This couldn't be happening. This _couldn't_ be happening. Not again. Not _again_!

But it _was_ happening.

And _again_, he was useless!

"Sit. _Down_." Stark barked a second time, his trigger-finger tensing slightly.

And what else could he do, but obey?

~ 0 ~

Rubbing a hand over his tired face, Steve leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. When he first joined the police-force years ago, he had never expected to one day find himself in a situation like this. Yes, he already chased rapists and burglars, had already solved murder-cases and arrested infamous drug-lords, but nothing, _nothing_ could ever compare to this.

This used to be a case like any other. It had started with one murder, but then a second had followed. A third had come after that, and a fourth, and a fifth, and so on. The moment the case began to revolve around a serial killer, it had become somewhat unique, but Steve had gone about the job like he did any other. He stayed focused, did his research, conducted the right interviews, and much more. He simply did his best to catch the son of a bitch who was responsible for these murders, but somehow…everything had changed at one point.

First of all, it had become personal when one of their own had been attacked and Steve couldn't help but sigh when he remembered that particular evening a week and a half ago. He would never be able to forget that desperate, panicked look in Thor's eyes. He would never be able to get that image out of his head of blood streaming down Loki's throat as he struggled to breathe while Thor hysterically tried to keep his little brother alive.

And then they had learned who the serial killer was. Tony _fucking_ Stark, a man who had everything! He was as rich as the sea was deep, he had all the right friends, and he owned a multinational company. So why wasn't that enough for that bastard? Yes, Steve knew all about Stark's mental issues – together with Bruce Banner, he had interviewed Obadiah Stane and gotten the full extent of those problems – but he refused to let those be an excuse.

And then the media had found out… Oh, the world had nearly gone insane, and the panicked people made it damn hard for Steve and his colleagues to perform their jobs properly. There were reporters everywhere and people were calling the tip-line with the most ridiculous information.

The fact that Stark managed to stay hidden was even stranger, because the whole city was looking for him. Hell, the entire _world_ was watching out for him, but somehow that bastard still managed to slip between their fingers. He was making them all look like fools and Steve hated it. He fervently hoped that Stark just lay dead somewhere, having died from blood-loss, but the world wasn't that fair and Steve knew that if they wanted this madness to stop, they would have to catch Stark themselves.

So he and his colleagues did their jobs and tried to catch the son of a bitch while also protecting Loki to the best of their abilities, both from Stark _and_ the media. It was a miracle that Director Fury had been able to keep the exact hospital where Loki was staying at a secret, and so far, the reporters seemed to behave. None had been following Thor and his family around – but that wasn't-

Steve was suddenly drawn from his thoughts when Director Fury's door violently burst open, the one-eyed man storming out of his office and into the bullpen. He had seen Fury angry and exasperated before, he'd seen him bewildered and frustrated, but right now, Steve was seeing a new plethora of emotions flicker behind Fury's one good eye. Besides outrage, annoyance and resentment, Steve could recognize desperation and fear as well. He had known the Director for years already, but never had he seen him like _that_.

_What was going on_, he thought nervously.

"Listen up, people!" Fury's dark gaze fell on each police officer and detective nearby as he planted his fists in his sides. "I just got a call from St. John's Hospital."

_Fuck_.

Steve knew perfectly well who was currently hospitalized there.

"As of right now, we are dealing with a hostage situation," Fury continued, his voice loud, collected and full of authority. "Tony Stark somehow managed to get into the hospital unnoticed. He killed officers Christian Ford and Thomas Penn. Nurses confirmed that Stark is currently inside Loki Odinson's hospital room where he's holding Loki and Thor at gunpoint."

Steve jumped up to his feet, already grabbing various important items from his desk – such as his gun and badge - as he prepared to rush down to the hospital. He didn't know if he would be any use – tactical teams usually handled hostage-situations and they never liked any interference from a detective – but this wasn't an ordinary situation and Thor was his friend. Steve needed to be there for him. And Stark had already escaped him once. He wouldn't escape him twice!

"We have to go about the situation delicately," Fury continued, his gaze finally landing on Steve as if he was warning him or something, or telling him to calm down. "I need people keeping the press at bay. I also need a team to set up a perimeter around the hospital in case Stark tries to make a run for it. We don't have an insight yet on Stark's health – mental or physical – but we know he has been shot in the shoulder so we can at least assume he's weakened." He paused for a short moment, allowing his people to take in the information.

"Alright, let's get going!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: I am so sorry for the late update. School is keeping me busy, unfortunately. But here is the next update and I do hope you'll enjoy! I want to thank everyone who is still reading this. I also want to thank Greenloki for supporting me and helping me write this! You rock, girl!**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 6**

_**July 18**__**th**__**, Thursday**_

Slowly, Thor sunk down onto the chair closest to Loki's unconscious form, and as much as he wanted to keep his gaze trained on his brother, he knew he could not look away from Tony Stark. Wishing he didn't feel so fearful and panicked, he could only watch as Tony slowly walked to the other side of Loki's bed, his steps sluggish and his knees trembling. His cold, dark eyes stood focused, however, and surprisingly sharp. Thor wished he knew what that bastard was thinking right now, but Tony's thoughts were more than likely incomprehensible. He was crazy after all.

Besides, it didn't matter whether or not he knew what Tony was thinking. It wouldn't change anything about the situation and if Thor stopped being naïve for three seconds, he would understand Tony's intentions. A part of him lived in denial, however, or was it hope? Was there a difference?

He just needed to keep his own head together, needing to protect Loki.

_You already failed once_, he thought bitterly, _don't fail twice_.

Tony was clearly weakened and for a moment Thor entertained the idea of outright attacking him, but the fact remained that Tony held a gun which he kept continuously aimed at Loki's head. Being fast and strong wasn't a guarantee for success at the moment, so Thor decided to stay calm and think of a better plan.

"Why are you here?" He asked tightly when the silence in the room became unbearable. He knew he'd asked a ridiculous question – he knew exactly why Tony was here – but he needed to keep the guy busy.

_Yes, because stalling worked out so well last time_! Thor instantly shook away that thought. Stalling _had_ worked because Loki was still alive, wasn't he? Yes, he was.

His blue gaze never left Stark's back when the man suddenly turned away from him and Loki. Should he attack now? No, it was still a stupid plan. He couldn't jump over the bed, not without hurting Loki at least, and by the time he would have run around it, Tony would have heard him and he would shoot Loki without hesitating.

Again, Thor glanced around for a weapon – anything he could use to harm or possibly kill – as Tony's attention was momentarily focused on all the different machines surrounding them. After a moment, Tony hummed lowly, which sounded strangely satisfied, and Thor did not like it.

He needed Tony to focus on him, but how? Should he just keep him talking? Should he try and make him surrender? No, that was ridiculous. Tony would never surrender himself. He was too stubborn and delusional for that.

"How is your brother doing?" Tony suddenly asked, his speech listless. Gone was that confident, powerful, strong, but deranged bastard, and Thor was suddenly taken aback by how faded Tony looked. Tony still wasn't looking at Thor, his gaze remaining focused on the various machines, but his grip on the gun visibly tightened.

Swallowing heavily, Thor momentarily lowered his gaze to glance at Loki even though he was well aware that he should keep his eyes firmly on Tony. Still, a part of him needed to see that Loki was still alright, and as was to be expected, Loki lay calm as ever, no sign of distress visible in his thin features. In fact, nothing had changed about him. He lay so very still, except for his chest which rose and fell with every breath he took. His skin still had a ghostly pale color, several IV's were connected to his arms, a thin plastic wire of a nasal cannula ran around his face, and thick, white bandages were wrapped around his neck.

_Don't wake up now_, Thor thought frantically.

Turning his gaze back towards Tony, Thor decided that he needed to get Tony talking – about something, about _anything_.

"Why are you here?" He asked again.

"You tell me." Tony sounded out of breath.

Thor's thoughts were racing so very fast that he felt momentarily dizzy. _Keep yourself together_, he kept telling himself, _for Loki_. He licked his lips and chose his next words carefully. This was all a game after all – a game of chess. Every move he made would affect the outcome, but the same went for Stark. _Just play it smart_.

"You already got what you wanted," he said. "You destroyed our lives. What more do you want?"

Tony spun around and gazed at Thor for the second time since he'd killed his way into this room. His dark eyes pierced Thor's bright blue ones, and for a moment, Thor felt uncomfortable. Tony's gaze felt heavy, but sharp, and the way he kept twitching and wincing was worrisome, too. He looked unpredictable and Thor despised it. Still, Tony was clearly weakened and Thor had to use that to his advantage somehow.

"Have I really destroyed you?" Tony asked, raising one eyebrow. He pointed the gun at Thor and waved it around a bit, making Thor cringe back. "I'm sorry, but _you_ don't seem all that broken to me and Loki here will live. It's been in every single newspaper."

Thor shook his head. "Nothing will ever be the same."

Tony rolled his eyes, then inhaled sharply because he had trouble breathing. Slowly, his legs seemingly unable to support his weight, he took a seat on the other side of Loki's hospital bed, and Thor could only stare at him. He knew Stark was good at this game so he probably _wanted_ Thor to burst with anger, but one wrong movement and Stark would plant a bullet in either his or Loki's head. There would be no coming back from that.

"Oh really?" Tony asked skeptically.

He might _look_ like he'd been dragged through hell itself, but Thor couldn't help but think that the bastard might be fooling him. It was so very easy for Thor to underestimate Tony, only to find that he was still strong enough to kill them both. He had a gun after all. All Tony only needed swiftness. But the fact remained that Tony had been shot just a few days ago, and Thor briefly wondered how much blood he had lost. Was his shoulder-wound infected? Was he dying? God, he hoped he was dying!

"You're just saying such things because you think that's what I want to hear." Tony's breathing rattled filthily. When he was done speaking, he needed another moment to catch his breath. He was definitely not faking.

"I can't possibly know what you want to hear," Thor snapped. He really needed to up his game. The last thing he wanted was Tony to have control of the situation. He really needed to steal that control back from him. "You are a power-hungry, greedy, delusional, insane son of a bitch. You're unpredictable and damn hard to kill."

Yes, he most definitely had to up his game!

Had he really just insulted Tony Stark, the man who was holding a gun?

He had.

He wanted to punch himself.

Tony clearly didn't like Thor's comments either. He lifted the gun and placed it almost casually on the pillow, right next to Loki's head while keeping his finger loosely around the trigger. "You're very easy to hate," he said. "You're a very blunt man and you speak before you think, but I also kinda like that about you."

Thor wanted to frown, he wanted to ask what the hell Tony meant by that, but he kept himself composed. He kept a lid on his fear and panic. The silence surrounding them when none spoke felt uncomfortable, so Thor made a note to himself to keep the conversation going.

"Why are you talking to me?" He asked. He knew why Tony was here; to finish what he'd started, but all he did was talk and threaten. It made no sense. "I know you want my brother dead and me in ruins, but you're just…sitting there, _talking_. Why?"

"Because there is no rush," Tony replied.

If Thor wasn't mistaken, he found that Tony was barely breathing anymore.

"But you're dying," he said. His blue eyes fell on Tony's injured shoulder, slid down towards his arm and finally landed on his pale, limp, bloodstained hand. Fresh drops of blood were dripping onto the white floor. He really didn't understand Tony's comment. "There are doctors here, and they could help you."

With a trembling hand, Tony reached forward until his bloodied fingers rested on top of Loki's. Thor clenched his teeth together in order to prevent himself from growling, and he had to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from slapping Tony's hand away. What despised him the most was the fact that Tony's blood now stained his brother's pale skin.

"Don't lower yourself to that." Tony looked as if he was greatly disappointed. His grip on Loki's hand tightened while the grip on the gun seemed to ease up. Somehow, Tony looked somewhere half between consciousness and unconsciousness. "Don't coax me into thinking that you care about me," he said. "You want me dead as much as I want your brother dead."

It felt as if he was being punched in the stomach. For a moment, Thor couldn't breathe and he feared he would throw up. It shouldn't shock him like this, though. Of course Tony wanted his brother dead! That was why he was here in the first place, but the situation had become so real suddenly.

Once Tony was bored with Thor, he would pull the trigger and Loki's life would end.

Thor could feel his heart race beneath his chest, but he had to stay calm. "I suppose there is nothing I can do or say that will make you change your mind?"

"…no."

Tony's eyes fluttered shut, and he looked very sick. All color had left his face, his lips looked incredibly dry and all he could do was suck in small, shallow breaths, indicating that he could hardly breathe anymore. Thor had been right; Tony's time was running out which meant he would try and kill Loki soon, but strangely enough, Thor began to doubt whether Tony still had the strength to pull the trigger.

"Your brother…" Tony said slowly, his words barely comprehensible, "…will die."

This couldn't be the end. Tony was smart, _incredibly_ smart, and he was stubborn, too. He wouldn't die before he'd accomplished in his quest to destroy Thor. He just _wouldn't_. This made no sense, and Thor began to feel overwhelmed by panic and terror.

Tony's hand fell away from the gun, his arm suddenly dangling limply beside his body.

Without hesitating, Thor jumped up from his seat and grabbed the gun which he swiftly aimed at Tony's head. His movement missed a lot of effect, however, since Tony's eyes were still closed. He just sat there, half slumped in the chair right next to Loki's bed with one hand laying on top of Loki's, his bloodstained fingers curled around Loki's thin, pale hand.

Thor was breathing hard and fast.

None of this made sense!

What was happening?

Should he pull the trigger?

Should he end Tony's life once and for all?

But he was already dying.

Shooting him was pointless.

_Nothing made sense!_

And then it _all _made sense.

Tony had never planned to shoot Loki through the head. It wouldn't have been a fitting end to the sick and twisted game he had been playing with Thor. Slowly and fearfully, Thor lowered his gaze to the form of his sleeping brother. _Oh, it all made sense now!_ As much as Thor had tried to keep Tony's attention fixed on him, Tony had been doing the exact same thing. He had made Thor focus entirely on him.

"What have you done?" He asked breathlessly. He thought he knew fear. He thought he knew what it felt like to be _afraid_, but this…_this_ was something much worse. He felt frightened, and horrified, and desperate. He felt bewildered, and helpless, and hopeless. "What have you _done_?"

With tears in his eyes, Thor watched how a cruel smile curved Tony's lips upwards.

"I have…proven…myself…" Tony tried to swallow, but he didn't even have the strength to do that anymore. "I'm…the victor."

Thor stopped listening then. After placing the gun on the floor – because he had to put it somewhere and he had to make sure Stark couldn't somehow grab it again – he quickly returned his gaze to Loki's still form. He felt sick to his stomach and his hands shook violently as he placed them to the sides of Loki's face. He was so very cold.

_Too cold_.

Loki was hardly breathing anymore.

What on earth had Tony done to him? Thor wanted to scream, but no sound came from his parted lips. He lifted his gaze to the son of a bitch at the other side of Loki's bed, wanting to scream at him, and curse him. He wanted to tear him apart, limb by limb.

Numbness spread through him.

"What the hell have you done?"

Silence was his answer.

Tony Stark sat dead in his chair.

"_You fucking bastard_!" He screamed

He brushed his thumbs over his brother's cheeks. "Loki?" Thor asked, his voice breaking. "Loki, can you hear me?" _He's never been able to hear me_, Thor thought hysterically. "Open your eyes, brother," he begged. "Come on, open your eyes and _breathe_."

_This couldn't be happening again_! Tears streamed down his face and the world was spinning around him, making him feel nauseous, but Thor stayed focused. He had to! He had to save his brother. He needed help!

Storming to the door, he threw it open and hurried into the hallway. It felt as if his heart was about to leap from his chest. Much to his relief _and _shock, he found a small group of people gathering at the far end of the hallway. What the hell were they doing there? Why weren't they moving? Why weren't they coming forward to help them? No, they just stood there, being _useless_!

A small, rational voice in the back of his head told him that they were planning a rescue, a negotiation. Thor ignored it. They were all just standing there, motionless. And then Thor's gaze fell on a familiar face and he watched Steve's blue eyes widen with relief when spotting his friend. It was Steve who jumped into action first, grabbing hold of his gun and running forward towards Thor.

"Help him!" Thor didn't know whether he was screaming or crying. Maybe he was just begging. He honestly didn't know, and he didn't care either. "_Help him, please_! He's barely breathing!"

All of a sudden, everyone jumped into action.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!**

**AN: I'm so sorry for the late update! School has kept me busy unfortunately. But here is the next update and I hope you will enjoy it! If you are anxious to find out just what Tony did to Loki in the last chapter, then read on and find out!**

**Thanks for sticking with this story.**

**~ We Might Fall ~**

**Chapter 7**

**July 18****th****, Thursday**

Noise surrounded him – people talking, nurses and doctors rushing by, machines beeping – but Thor heard none of it, nor did he care to listen. He stared straight ahead as he sat in one of those miserable, uncomfortable chairs in the white hall with Steve perched beside him, his concerned gaze focused on Thor, but Thor paid him no attention. He let his mind become consumed by the brightness of the hospital walls, desperately trying to erase the image from his mind of Loki as he lay too still in his hospital bed, his hand stained with Stark's blood.

With all of his heart, Thor wanted to believe that the nightmare had finally ended with Stark's death, but he didn't dare to believe so. He was afraid he would only have his heart broken, to hear a doctor say those dreadful few words. _Your brother is dead_. Would he hear that soon? Would they come to him and look at him with honest sorrow and hateful pity in their eyes? Would there even be need to say those words for Thor to understand?

He should call his mother and father to tell them what had happened, but at the moment, Thor simply couldn't face their panic and concern and pain and hysteria. Dealing with his own was enough. Besides, they would have questions he couldn't answer right now – questions _he _desperately needed answered.

And then he came – a man in a white coat. He cleared his throat, Thor's dolorous eyes snapping up to meet the doctor's gaze, hoping to already find some answers written in it. He watched as the doctor offered him a polite and kind smile, and Thor wanted to curse him for it, because _shit_, what did that mean? Was it supposed to reassure him that everything was okay, that Loki lived? Or was he already apologizing for the grievous news he was about to announce?

"Your brother is going to be okay."

Thor let out a heavy, shaky breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Tension slipped away from him, his muscles relaxing. He dropped his head forward, his blond hair falling before his features, shielding him from preying eyes. He pressed his hands against his face because _no_, he didn't want anyone to see the tears streaming down his cheeks. He just needed a moment for himself, the opportunity to gather his thoughts and let all emotions drain away from him – just one moment to catch his breath.

"And Stark?" He asked after a long silence. He straightened his back, his hands falling to his lap. Thinking about that bastard made anger surge through him, made his hands form tight fists until he felt his nails dig into his skin. "He's dead, right?"

The doctor nodded once. "Yes, Mr. Stark is dead."

"What did he do to my brother?" Thor realized how hostile he sounded, but he didn't care and he knew the doctor didn't mind. Did he not have the right to be angry after all? A part of him even felt frustrated that Stark had died because now he would never be trialed for his crimes. The families of his victims would never see him in court nor get some kind of explanation or closure. "Why wasn't Loki breathing anymore?"

The doctor took a seat next to Thor, his gaze momentarily shifting between Thor and Steve who hadn't said a word yet and who clearly wasn't planning to either. Everything about the man spoke of professionalism. "For days now, we have been waiting for your brother to wake," he started to explain. He used a soft, soothing voice. "We just didn't know when exactly that would happen. That is why we were already administering pain medication, more specifically, due to the nature of his injury, we were giving him a small dosage of morphine." The doctor sighed then. "Tony Stark managed to tamper with the machine that regulates the morphine dose," he said regretfully. "Your brother received an overdose which causes asphyxia, but we were able to quickly administer Naloxone which counteracts the morphine's effects. We expect him to make a full recovery."

Thor nodded before rubbing a hand over his tired face. He leaned back into the seat, taking a moment to regain his composure, the sudden silence between the three of them helping him calm down. _Everything was going to be okay_. It was a thought that kept echoing through his mind, a thought that he sorely needed.

"Can I see him?" He finally asked. He _had _to see him. He had to see with his own eyes that Loki was still there, that he still lived, that one day he would open his eyes and perhaps smile at him. Thor couldn't wait to see Loki smile again.

The doctor nodded. "Of course."

Thor didn't need to know more.

_**July 23e, Tuesday**_

Thor couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for more than five hours a night, just like he couldn't remember the last time where he hadn't jolted awake, a nightmare having unsettled him, images of Loki bleeding and dying continuously repeating in his mind. But even with Tony Stark dead and the doctors continuously reassuring him that his brother was fine, that it was just a matter of time before he would wake, Thor still felt anxious and tense and nervous. He recalled Steve mentioning something about post-traumatic stress disorder, but frankly, that idea was entirely absurd. Was he not allowed to process the past few days in his own personal way and in his own time?

His nightmare had started over two weeks ago when he had come home to find that a delusional and crazy man – _Tony fucking Stark_ – had broken into his home and held a knife to his brother's throat, threatening, _no_, promising to destroy their lives. Every small detail of that evening lay ever so clearly in his mind even though it seemed to have happened ages ago.

He should go home and crawl into bed. He should really try and get some proper sleep – he was drifting in and out of consciousness anyway – but he stubbornly refused to leave his brother's bedside out of the some strange, irrational notion that he still had to protect him, no matter how dead Tony Stark was. He had left Loki once, right here in the hospital, and he had almost died a second time. Like hell was he going to leave him again!

Yet, he couldn't deny the exhausted state of his body _and _mind. He didn't even know what time of the day it was, only that it was getting late and visiting hours were long over. But no nurses stopped by, asking him to leave, not anymore. Everyone knew it would be pointless, because God knows they tried enough.

He shifted in his chair, looking for a better position to spend the night in, but the hardness of the wooden chair did nothing to help, no matter how many pillows he stuffed behind his back. He sighed and let his head fall back as he pulled his blanket a little higher up his chest – a kindness from the nurses who figured that if they couldn't get him to leave, they might as well try and make his stay a little more comfortable. For a moment he stared up at the ceiling, and then his eyes fluttered shut, nothing but darkness and silence surrounding him. The unease never left, however, and no matter how much Thor _wanted _to sleep, he just couldn't find that moment of bliss.

So maybe he would barely catch any sleep tonight, but he vowed to go home tomorrow morning once his parents came to sit with Loki. He had to see Jane anyway – he really missed her – and maybe after she had gone off to work, he could try and take a nap, though he doubted that would work. He was exhausted and on the verge of having a complete breakdown, but none of that changed the fact that he simply _couldn't _sleep.

But finally, after minutes of forcing himself to think about nothing at all, his breathing started to even out and tension slowly slipped away from his muscles. He could feel sleep claiming him, pulling him under, but already images of Stark slitting Loki's throat floated before his eyes, making Thor wince and squeeze his eyes tightly shut until he saw an explosion of a thousand little stars. He just wanted a dreamless night – for once he wanted to escape from-

A groan.

Blue eyes snapped wide open.

Thor turned his head to the side, his gaze taking in Loki's form, studying every detail, but Loki lay motionless. Had he imagined that sound? Had he been dreaming or was he finally going mad because of sleep deprivation? He let out a slow breath, cursing himself for getting worked up over nothing when he watched Loki's features suddenly contort with discomfort, unease, and possibly, pain.

"Loki?"

With uncontrolled movements, Loki brought his right hand to his throat, his fingers feeling the white bandage wrapped around it, but his eyes remained closed. A frown creased his brow while his lips parted as he drew in a sharp breath. Thor quickly pushed his blanket aside and rushed closer to Loki's bedside. Very carefully as not to startle him, he placed his hand on top of Loki's – the one that still lay next to his body – and watched as finally, _finally _Loki's eyes open.

"Hi there," Thor said. Why were there already tears in his eyes? All thoughts of exhaustion were gone, though. In fact, he felt new energy surge through his body, driving him onward, making him feel lively and spirited. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, but now it was here and he finally saw those familiar green eyes again and _great_, now those tears were actually rolling down his cheeks.

This was his proof – his brother was alive and he was fine.

Loki stared at him for a moment, listless green eyes revealing confusion and disorientation. His hand fell away from his neck, coming to rest on top of his chest as he swallowed heavily, or at least, he tried to. Instead, he began to cough and he squeezed his eyes shut. Thor hurried to the small table in the corner of the room, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with fresh, cool water. He used the opportunity to wipe away his tears and calm down.

He quickly returned to his brother's side and attentively slipped a hand underneath Loki's head, lifting it up a bit. Loki eagerly drank the water, his features relaxing at once. Thor lowered his head onto the soft pillow again and hastily put the plastic cup aside.

Gazing at his brother, seeing him awake and well, made him smile.

"_Hi_." Loki's voice sounded hoarse and barely audibly, but it was the best sound Thor had heard in days.

His smile only grew and he had to control himself to not wrap his arms around his brother and hug him tightly, but he didn't think Loki would like that right now. Hell, he might just break him, because he looked so thin and fragile.

"It's good to see you awake," he said softly, watching Loki smile back at him. It didn't reach his eyes, though. He simply looked too drained and exhausted which was strange considering he'd slept for days. "How are you feeling?"

Loki tried to push himself into a sitting position, only to wince and entirely give up his attempt. Thor quickly repositioned his pillow to make sure he lay as comfortable as possible. Loki sighed heavily, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he focused on Thor once again, though it seemed to demand a lot of energy from him. "I'm tired," he admitted. "And sore."

"Are you in pain?"

"No," Loki croaked, shaking his head.

Thor reached forward, brushing aside some of Loki's raven hair, finding that Loki leaned into his touch. Green eyes fell shut then, and this time, they remained that way. He still looked so terribly pale and the dark circles around his eyes only proved how exhausted he really was.

"You should sleep now," Thor told him. It actually pained him to say those words, because he really didn't want this moment to end. He wanted to talk to Loki, make sure he was okay, and discover just how much he still remembered. He wanted to tell him that he was fine now, that Stark was dead, and that he was sorry he couldn't protect him from this madness.

But instead he kept running his fingers through his brother's hair, soothing him, calming him, telling him everything was okay. Thor couldn't remember the last time he'd shown him this much affection and that thought frightened him. What if Loki had died and he had never told him he loved him? What if he had never had the chance to spend time with him again? What if-

_No_. Everything was fine. Such thoughts were pointless.

"Thor?" Loki asked softly, sounding already faraway.

"Yes?"

"Will you leave?"

The question shocked him and he didn't know why. He lowered his hand until it rest on top of Loki's, then curled his fingers around his hand and squeezed. "No, Loki," he said, his voice holding a promise. "I'm going to be right here when you wake."

"…okay."

_**July 24**__**th**__**, Wednesday**_

Tapping his fingers against his thigh, Thor impatiently waited for the phone call to connect. Since the use of cellphones was forbidden inside the hospital, he'd had no other choice but to walk all the way to the nurses' station to use a landline which subsequently meant he had been forced to leave his brother's bedside. He truly hoped Loki wouldn't wake now that he'd left him for a moment, because he had promised to be there when he'd wake and he truly didn't want to break that promise.

"_Hello_?" A soft and kind voice answered.

A sigh of relief escaped Thor's lips, because hearing her voice always made him feel better. "Hi, Mom!" He sounded too loud and raucous, and he knew he was giving Frigga a minor heart attack at eight in the morning, but he just couldn't control the excitement and happiness he felt right now. Still, he cursed himself for his inconsideration, because that excitement and happiness might as well sound like panic and fear over the phone.

"_Thor, what's going on_?" Fright rang clearly in Frigga's voice which wasn't unsurprising. Every phone call she had received lately was to tell her of bad news. "_Is everything okay? Is it Loki?_"

"He woke up, Mom," Thor calmly explained. "Last night, he opened his eyes."

Silence.

Then a choked sob.

"_He woke_?" Her voice sounded like it was just about ready to shatter into a million pieces, but there lay undeniable elation and relief in it. Thor couldn't stop himself from grinning. "_Is he – is he okay? Did he say anything?_"

"He's okay," he assured her, making sure he continued sounding calm. He ran a hand through his hair and inhaled sharply, hoping that that would stop him from bursting into tears. Hearing his mother cry – even though she was crying of happiness – made his chest tighten painfully. "He didn't say much, but he's okay, Mom, and he's going to be fine."

"_Your father and I are coming to the hospital_," Frigga said. "_Right now_."

"Of course," Thor replied, still smiling. "I hadn't expected it any other way."


End file.
